The Last Jedi
by Invieri
Summary: Starkiller Base destroyed, the First Order in chaos. Rey travels to Ahch-To, to convince Jedi Master Skywalker to return with her to face the rising tyranny. Will she convince the reclusive Jedi Master, or will she find something long buried and forgotten?
1. Ach-To I

**The FIRST ORDER reigns. Having Decimated the peaceful Republic, Supreme Leader Snoke and the young Kylo Ren, prepare to unleash their legions upon the galaxy.**

 **Only General Leia Organa's band of RESISTANCE fighters stand against the rising tyranny, certain that Jedi Master Luke Skywalker will return and restore a spark of hope to the fight. But the Resistance has been exposed.**

 **As the FIRST ORDER struggles to regroup, the young Rey begins to discover her destiny...**

* * *

 **The wind whipped** about her as she trailed behind Master Skywalker up the steep cliff, wrapping her cloak around her body as the mist in the air from the sea spray below clung to her skin, running down her face in little droplets to the tip of her nose, dripping from her chin.

The island was beautiful, in its simplistic and forgotten way. It was the polar opposite of Jakku, all sand and heat. She had thought she'd seen all the green in the galaxy on Takodana. Had it only been a few weeks? The grass was such a dark green, she couldn't have imagined, and the flowers! Idly, she wondered if she appreciated such colours more being from such a planet as she. Were there other planets like this out there in the galaxy? If there were, she hoped she'd be able to visit them someday.

She sniffed her cold nose, likely bright red by now. She paused for a moment, taking her eyes off of Skywalker for just a moment to look down at her feet – the small jagged stones had caused her to trip more than once from their hiding places among the grass. It wasn't the first time she'd paused in such a way though – at first, she'd thought it because she was becoming winded, but that didn't make any sense. She clambered, though not always gracefully through the hulls of Star Destroyers on an almost daily basis back on Jakku! So what was it?

She knelt, slowly but didn't allow her knees to rest on the damp soil. Master Skywalker was continuing his march onward and upward, she'd catch up. There it was again, that _feeling_ she'd been getting ever since touching that _blasted_ lightsaber. It was a gentle thing, coming on the wind. Like someone was whispering in her ear ever so softly. She looked over her left shoulder, pulling the left of her hood back ever so slightly out of her vision. Nothing was there.

At least, nothing was immediately there. On a cliff, just a little way over was some fog – not an uncommon sight, though it still gave her a bit of child-like glee when she saw it. The closest thing on Jakku were Sandstorms, and they were _not_ pleasant – even worse to clean out afterwards. The fog dissipated a little, disturbed by the wind whipping about the cliffs. Sound seemed to disappear for a moment. She could feel the rain on her skin, taste it on her lips, but she couldn't hear the crash of the waves below, or the great booms of the large sea-serpents slapping their tails angrily amongst the surf as they hunted. Her breath was heavy, misting before her eyes as she squinted, trying to work out just what, if anything she was seeing.

A tree, rising out of the fog in the crevasses between the rocks.

That was odd, she hadn't seen any trees on the island when they'd circled it in the Falcon, and the soil seemed far too thin for anything to grow like on Takodana – those trees seemed to bury themselves in the soil like Unkar liked to bury himself in credits. There it was again, the voice whispering on the wind. She rose slowly, leaning on her staff for a moment and glanced between the tree and the retreating form of Master Skywalker. As she began to look back at the tree, a figure caught the corner of her eye, walking toward the tree. Alas, as she looked properly, it was a shadow dancing on a rock as a group of clouds passed overhead.

What was it about that tree that was so interesting though? With a slight grimace and a bit of a frown, she set off towards it – a little slower than she'd been following Master Skywalker. After all, the tree wasn't going anywhere and she was in no hurry.

After clambering along the cliff to this reclusive tree, having only slipped with her footing the once – the kriffing stone was looser than it looked, she realised she'd barely taken her eyes off of it, but the whisper on the wind had been there with her the entire time, saying something just on the edge of hearing. Discovery of the tree meant discovery of the little grotto it seemed to be in, protected on all sides but the one she'd approached by the tall rock formations of the island and the mist was everywhere. Any other time and she'd be marvelling at the water vapor, how it clung to her clothes, making them cling to her tightly – how it made the stone so wet, she might catch her reflection in the droplets, which fed into tiny little streams, which in turn fed a small body of water as clear as a Jakku night sky.

She pulled the hood of her grey poncho back from her head, not even feeling it catch one of her buns on the back of her head. She flicked her eyes downward for just a moment, worried she'd lose sight of the tree if her eyes wandered for too long. There were steps. Primitive in their stone work, and seemingly carved out of the cliff itself, with small patches of grass and the yellows and greens of the moss that clung to the rocky surface. Her eyes darted back up. The tree was still there, good.

Her trance like walk brought her to the base of the tree, its bare, twisted branches forking up into the sky almost like a claw. Each branch must be at least twice as thick as her, she realised with the trunk even thicker still. The bark was dark and cracked, flowing from the trunk to the very tips of the branches. The whispering continued.

There was a hole in the tree. It was black, deep as night and so inviting. Her legs pulled her forward before she could think twice. One step, two steps – she was in, and suddenly, it was quiet. It wasn't that dark in reality. The bark flowed forwards, guiding her in further and little shafts of light broke through, illuminating the passage way. Just how thick was this tree? The passage was at least a few meters long and seemed to open into a small circular chamber.

After a moment, she realised she could hear the crinkling of the dried leaves beneath her feet and the whispering was gone. She was alone again. Despite the pull of _something_ that brought her here, she couldn't help but feel like a trespasser, an intruder into such a quiet sanctum. At the end of the passage, and against the far wall of the little chamber a shaft of light shone brightly on what appeared to be a small altar with what looked like… _books_?! She gasped in wonder, having only ever experienced on occasion the most basic of datapads. While a datapad was considered an extravagance by her standards, she was aware they were common pieces of technology, but _books_ were considered an extravagance only the most wealthy could afford.

Approaching the altar, she gently waved the dust from her face as it tickled her damp nose, her breath in her throat. She reached out slowly, a fingertip just a hairs breath from the spine of the centre most book.

"Who are you?" Master Skywalker's quiet question made her jump. She turned around, her heart hammering in her chest and her breath panting as she let the tension out from her shoulders. He stood there in the entranceway to the tree, the silhouette of him blocking out the light.

"I know this place." She whispered, her eyes glancing around the tree.

"Built a thousand generations ago," Skywalker said gently, running a calloused hand of the bark reverently as he walked into the chamber, "to keep these; the original Jedi texts." He finished, picking one of the volumes up. He opened it slowly, reverently running his gloved right hand along the first of the worn pages.

"Just like me, they're the last of the Jedi religion." He spun after a moment, his hand still placed on the page. He frowned, his dark, peppered hair swinging about his shoulders and his dark grey beard hiding his mouth as he added, "You've seen this place. You've seen this island."

Her eyes were still glancing around the room they were in, large saucers on her face. Her lips parted in wonder. "Only in dreams." Her voice still a whisper.

"Who _are_ you?" The aged Jedi Master asked, lowering his arm to his side.

"The Resistance sent me." She answered, turning her back to the man as she gently touched the bark of the chamber.

"They sent you. What's special about you?" He asked again, approaching her. She paused, her brow creased slightly as he added, "Where are you from?"

"Nowhere." She answered quickly, her eye catching the start of another passage, a smaller one running off of the main one. She would have missed it, if it weren't for wanting to avoid answering that blasted question.

"Nobody's from nowhere," Skywalker began, his voice disbelieving.

"Jakku." She interrupted, turning her head once more to look at him. His eyes had become focused, intense. She realised after a moment that they were a startling shade of blue.

"Alright, that is pretty much nowhere." Skywalker admitted, nodding his head gently. She had to briefly fight the undignified snort that threatened to sneak out of her. "Why are you here, Rey from nowhere?"

She paused. What did he mean by that? Why was she on this island? She'd already explained that to him days ago. The Resistance had sent her just before they'd launched into Hyperspace as they fled before the First Order could scramble to retaliate from the destruction of Starkiller base. Why was she in this tree? She had no good answer for that either. What could she say, that whispers on the wind had led her here? Yeah right. "The Resistance sent me. We need your help, the First Order's become unstop-"

"Why are _you_ here?" He demanded, his eyes narrowing as he took two steps forward.

 _Stang_.

She took a breath that in that moment, felt far too shallow. Her eyes felt moist, and not from the rain outside, or the dust in the tree. She felt _vulnerable_ before the question. Her lips trembled as she tried to compose herself. She glanced at Skywalker and all of a sudden felt unable to hold that gaze. "Something," She began, pausing as she tried how best to describe what caused her to feel such exhilaration and joy, but such unimaginable fear at the same time, "inside me has always been there. But now it's awake… And I'm afraid." She admitted, lifting her eyes to meet that of the legendary figure before her. "I don't know what it is, or what to do with it, and I need help."

"You need a teacher." Skywalker sighed, suddenly losing his intense gaze and looking for the first time… tired. "I can't teach you." He muttered, beginning to turn back to the books.

"Why n- Ah!" She began, before gasping in pain. It felt as if a knife was being plunged into her temples. She gasped, doubling over as her eyes clamped shut, the pain not letting up. She gripped her head with her left hand, reaching out with her right to steady herself against the wood when suddenly there was nothing there – the passage!

Before she knew it, she was on her face among the dried out leaves and soil, but the intense pain was gone. It was so sudden, for a moment she thought she'd imagined the whole thing, if not for Skywalker rushing to her side, kneeling and asking her something she couldn't hear. Her eyes swept the darkness before her, and by his own wandering gaze, it seemed this was a first time seeing this passage for himself also.

The whispering returned, louder and clearer than ever. She shrugged off Skywalker and stood, absently brushing the dirt off of her tunic and her knees. Without thinking, she began walking further into the passage, Skywalker attempting to keep up with her determined stride.

Absently, she noted that after the initial few steps, the wooden passage turned into a stone passage. The sharp angles of the rock jutting out and arcing over her head somewhere above her. The whispering stopped suddenly and the sound of Skywalker's muttering and her own breathing were the only sounds.

"Remarkable," Skywalker breathed, his eyes sweeping around the illuminated passage. The moss and lichen that had attached themselves to the stone were emitting their own soft cyan light, casting everything in a calming blue. "The ancient Jedi carved these."

That caught her attention. Turning her head behind her, she caught Skywalker gaping at some carved runes in the Stone. They were simple, but elegant – a mixture of what looked like Aurebesh and images. "What do they say?" She asked, her voice soft.

"I can make out what's left of the Aurebesh, but the images are a little odd. This one in particular. It just looks like a helmet." He answered, pointing a finger at a particular image. It was the one that had caught her eye first. In a way, it reminded her of the First Order trooper helmets she'd seen on Starkiller base. Except, the only detail on this angular carving was a single slit of a visor running left to right. "All the Aurebesh says is; 'He is here'."

"He? Who's 'He'?" She asked, more to herself than anything. She looked further down the passage again. She felt that tug once more. The one that brought her to the tree – to the carving. "I think we should keep going." She suggested, gently placing her hand on Skywalker's shoulder.

"What makes you so sure? What was that back there? Are you alright?" Skywalker asked, his eyes more alive than ever. He stepped before her, gently gripping her chin and turning her head to check for any injury. "That was the Force you felt, but nothing like what I've seen before."

"It's telling me to keep going. It's gentler now, softer but it's still there." She replied, giving the best answer she could. Her eyes wouldn't be torn from the end of the passage though – something was down there, and it wanted _her_.

"I'll follow your lead, but the first sign of trouble and we're leaving – deal?" Skywalker muttered, stepping aside and holding a hand out, signalling for her to take the lead. She nodded absently.

Down and down they went, the ever present glow of what little life eked out its existence down here. They must be three hundred meters into the mountain, twisting and turning deeper into its depths – she thought she could distantly hear the crashing of the sea above her. They turned one more, only to find something that by all rights and laws of the Universe, shouldn't have been there.

A door.

This wasn't just any door, but a door that spat in the face of what this island had led her to believe. While the island appeared primitive, and the prior Jedi presence supported such an assumption, this door was decidedly high-tech in comparison – not too dissimilar in apparent standard to those she'd seen at Starkiller Base. While those were dark and militaristic, this one was light, earthy in colour with little blue lights highlighting the surface. Before they could say anything, it's sensors must have picked up their presence because it flew up into the stone above them. Only the frame remained to ever hint at something having previously been there.

The two stepped though, onto a decidedly Durasteel platform that after a moment lowered them into a chamber.

The chamber was filled with all sorts – there was barely room to move! A stand off to her right held a combination of armour and robes, decidedly Jedi in style if Skywalker's gasp were anything to go by.

"I-" Skywalker began, struggling to find the words, "I can't believe it. I spent years looking for lost Jedi artefacts, and all these years this island has been hiding all of _this_?" He swept his arm before him, indicating the rows upon rows of crates, datapads and what appeared to be databanks.

Rey had to admit it, she was in equal awe of the chamber. The Jedi were usually mentioned in stories, in times that seemed so long ago – but now she was stood in a chamber full of their artefacts. A part of her mind wondered at how many rations all of this would have been worth on Jakku.

"What are those pipes?" She asked, her eyes drawn to the huge tubes that ran over her head and down to something on the other side of the room.

"Likely to keep the water out, I would think." Skywalker replied, already inspecting the robes and armour. The armour was dark and appeared to make up a pair of forearm gauntlets, boots and greaves while a tunic made up the rest. The tunic was dark also, and seemed to be made of a fine, durable material. As she stepped up to Skywalker though, she noticed there was armour plates woven into the fabric and long, wide strips fell from the waist down to the mannequin's calves.

"Is this what a Jedi would wear?" She asked, reaching a hand out to feel the rich fabric. It felt almost like one of Leia's Shimmersilk gowns – like the one she'd been wearing on the Raddus when she'd seen the Falcon off.

"I've never seen robes like it. I read that most Jedi would often wear plain, unassuming tan robes – some Jedi did wear some pieces of armour in the Clone Wars though." The aged Master replied, stepping to the small table next to it. "This must be what the carving was showing." He breathed, lifting something up she couldn't see.

As she stepped around the man, she gasped. In his hands was the helmet in the carving. It was menacing in appearance. A black helmet with red accents around a single slit of a visor. If the way Skywalker was holding it was any indication, it was also heavy. As she tore her eyes from the menacing helm, her eyes caught some very familiar metallic cylinders.

"Lightsabers," she breathed as she gently picked one up and thumbed the activation stud. A brilliant cyan blade sprung to life with a resounding _snap-hiss_ that echoed in the chamber. All these generations and it still worked! It was beautiful, humming gracefully as she waved it left to right.

"Well made lightsabers as well, if the hilts are anything to go by. Whoever made these was skilled." Skywalker agreed, having placed the helmet down gently. The cyan light of the blade in Rey's hand did little to hide the childlike glee and wonder on the face of the man beside her. She grinned at him as she de-activated the blade and put it down.

As the two moved further into the chamber, she realised that the pipes she'd noticed before were feeding into a number of machines, and some continued on through the rock as if they'd always belonged there. The whispering was back.

She approached the centre machine, steam rising from grates in the floor around it. As she approached, the whispering once more left with no warning. There was a small console with a single button on it before her, blinking gently in the chamber. Without thinking she pressed it, not knowing what to expect. All of a sudden, she let go of a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding – a pressure on her chest was gone and she felt lighter, freer than she had done since landing on the planet.

"What did you do?" Skywalker demanded as machines that had slept for a thousand generations suddenly spun up to do a task neither Jedi Master, nor young woman had any idea of.

"I-I don't know. I felt like I needed to press this button, like it was the most important thing at the time!" She replied, her eyes darting around the room as she heard the machines spin up. All of a sudden, the centre machine she'd spotted earlier began rising out of the ground, apparently having been semi-submerged in the stone. There was some Aurebesh on the side they were stood and what looked like a frosted transparasteel window. Skywalker and Rey rushed over to it.

"'Here lies Nasra Shan, Hero of Tython, Bane of Vitiate, Eternal Emperor of Zakuul. Prisoner of the Jedi'." Skywalker read aloud, his voice trailing into an aghast whisper as he looked around the room with a newfound knowledge. "What have you awoken?"

The hiss of a seal breaking silenced any panicked reply she could have thought up, her eyes glued to the front panel of the machine that was no longer frosted over, but so clouded by steam it didn't help to alleviate any of the panic that threatened to overcome her. The two of them stepped back as the panel lifted up and away from the rest of the machine.

A foot emerged from the steam, bare of any sort of protection. Another followed it and a deep groan of a human man left the cloud of steam before them. One step forward, two steps and suddenly Master Skywalker's lightsaber was in her hands, blade ignited and her pulse racing.

Before she realised it, the steam was gone and before her stood a man, not much older than she – perhaps a decade, maybe a little bit more. His thick, damp hair fell over his shoulders and his short, thick beard covered the lower half of his face. All over his body were scars and what looked like small burns, but his eyes were the most striking of all. His eyes were a dark blue, gazing at the two before him intently as he drew himself up to his full height. She could see strong, taught muscles that had been asleep for however long stretch and tense – that was when she realised, he was completely nude.

 _Stang_.

"Oh, _Kriff_." The stranger muttered, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fell forward, straight into Rey.

Quickly de-activating the blade, she caught the massive weight of the man before her with a wheeze as the air left her lungs.

"Great." She muttered, gently lowering to her knees, a stranger's head in her lap.

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, so I've been absent for a good few years and in that time, I haven't written a word! I'm currently in my final year at University studying to be a 3D Artist, and I've had this floating around in my head ever since I saw The Force Awakens. I may continue it, I may not, but I wrote this out as a bit of fun more than anything.

Enjoy it at your own pleasure, let me know in the reviews what you guys think and by all means C&C! I've not written for years and I feel it may be pretty obvious, so if anyone spots anything, let me know and I'll fix it up when I have the chance!


	2. Ach-To II

**His eyes opened** slowly, thank the Force. For the first time in his life since beginning his training as a child, he struggled to keep them open. All the war and the need to be alert all the time had left him programmed as such a light sleeper, that it would drive Kira to despair more often than not.

He groaned and rolled over sleepily, reaching for the covers of his bed. Anything to get rid of that awful bright light somewhere above him. Was it really morning on Odessen already? The galaxy will survive a little longer, surely.

That was when the slap came.

He bolted upright, reaching out with the Force unconsciously to purge the sleep from him body just like he'd done a thousand times before. Only, he wasn't in his quarters, and he realised after a moment, he was incredibly nude – just what the hell happened after he left Doc passed out in the Cantina, and where the _kriff_ were his clothes? Thank the Force someone had the decency to cover him with his cloak. Lana wasn't going to ever let him live this down.

"I told you that would work." The young brunette woman before him said to the older man next to her. The two of them were kneeling before him, both wearing damp poncho's and both their hair stuck to their faces from the rain – though the girl seemed to have had the foresight to tie it into three buns on the back of her head. She looked a little too smug in that moment – so he found his attacker. His eyes narrowed to slits as he rubbed his cheek gingerly.

"Who are you two? And why in the Force did you have to slap me?" He demanded, glancing at the older man – he seemed on edge. Why?

"We released you from that machine over there," the brunette replied cautiously, nodding at the machine that was billowing steam some three meters behind her. It was made of dark Durasteel and seemed to be dripping in so much condensation, he was sure he could hear Moisture Farmers on Tatooine drooling. "the inscription said your name is Nasra Shan."

Why had he been in that machine? Had someone drugged him in his sleep, or had he entered it willingly? From his position a few meters away from it and sat bare-arsed on the floor with nothing but a cloak to keep his dignity, he thought it looked vaguely similar to some of the Stasis Chambers he'd seen in the vaults of Zakuul, but he couldn't be sure. Force his head hurt worse than it did on Dagory Minor when he was there with Ther-

How long had he been in it?

"How long have I been in there?" He asked suddenly, his eyes darting between the two humans before him.

"A while, I would guess." The elder said somberly, "I'm sorry."

It felt like an Umbaran Spider Droid just stamped on his chest. His breathing deepened, but only got shallower with each breath. Before he knew it, he was stumbling to his unsteady feet, falling into a crate and sending a dozen datapads in every which way, their clattering on the metallic floor a hammer to his already pounding head. He felt hot, then cold. He was trembling, then he was convulsing, then shaking again. Nothing was right! He needed to breathe, needed to centre himself but as he reached out to use the Force to help him find that centre, it was like trying to grab a fistful of water in a waterfall. He felt so helpless.

Distantly, he felt his cloak draped over his shoulders and his head snapped to the left – nodding his thanks to the older man. After a few minutes, wrapped in the comfort of one of his dark cloaks, he felt his pulse beginning to steady, his grasp on the Force returning and his body stilling.

"Thank you, for removing me from the machine. I still don't know the names of my rescuers." He muttered, loud enough for the two of them to hear. His eyes flickered between the two of them, gauging them, weighing them up in his mind from habit. In a heartbeat, he finally took stock of their appearances.

The girl was young, early twenties at most. Smooth, flawless skin, dark eyes and hair and full lips. She frowned a little too much, he thought. Her jaw was set, strong in its positioning. He'd bet the Defender she was as stubborn as Lana. Her dark hair was tied back off of her face in what looked like three little buns. An odd style to be sure, though he never really cared to do much else but tie his up, so his opinion meant very little. Her voice was rich, accented but he couldn't place where he'd heard it before. The poncho was grey, almost black with the damp and pooled around the floor, hiding any utility belt or small weapons, but on the floor next to her were two very distinct weapons. The first, what appeared to be a home-made Quarterstaff, but the second was far more interesting – a lightsaber hilt. What colour was it, he wondered idly – not that it mattered much to him anymore.

The man was a similar story. He looked early fifties, though he assumed he was older than that. The blessings of a young face. He was shorter than most, even kneeled down next to the girl he could tell that. His peppered hair fell about his shoulders messily, loose strands clumsily pushed away from his eyes. Those blue orbs were intense even by his standards – were those what his looked like to a stranger, he wondered idly. A thick, neatly trimmed beard hid the lower half of the man's face while a black poncho hid the rest of his body. No weapons around him though.

All in all, both were functional in appearance, but he'd seen this pairing a million times already. A Master and a Student.

"I'm Rey, and this is uh," 'Rey' began, apparently at a loss for words when referring to the man next to her.

"Luke." He finished for her, nodding neither aggressively or in a friendly way. He seemed incredibly wary for some reason.

"Rey, 'Luke', you have my deepest thanks. Now, before we get started with whatever is going on here…" Nasra began, pushing himself to his full height and wrapping the cloak about his body tightly. He noticed the two before him tense, "The lightsaber on the floor there. Is it 'Master' Luke, or 'Darth' Luke? Lord works just fine as well, I suppose." He asked, subtly drawing in energy from the Force. None of those were a sure answer, he realised with some despair.

"He's Master Luke! Master! We're not Sith!" Rey pleaded as Luke prepared to open his mouth. She held her hands up non-threateningly to placate him.

"So, you're a Jedi, I assume?" He asked, his right brow arching up ever so slightly.

"The last." Master Luke replied stoically. His eyes not leaving Nasra's own.

With a quiet breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, he released the accumulated power back into the Force carefully. He reached out around him as he did so, letting a tendril of his presence extend out to where he knew the Master would be, intending to greet him as a colleague, a friend – only, he wasn't there. It was as if a void stood in his place. Understanding hit him immediately.

"You have my condolences, truly. Is that why you've shut yourself off from the Force?" He asked, absently looking down at the crate he'd fallen on, realising for the first time that he'd thrown the lid off at some point. The crate was full of his clothes from his Odessen quarters. He turned his back to the pair as he found some of his clothes.

"You've done _what_?" Rey gasped, the scuffing of her boots on the metal beneath them telling him she'd span to the Jedi. Meanwhile, he was struggling to get this _blasted, Force-Forsaken_ sock on.

"It was a personal decision, which I don't have to justify to you. And _you_ , if you truly are a Force Sensitive, Jedi or Sith, you should know better than to attempt whatever it was you were trying to do." The Master reprimanded. Nasra could feel the glare as he tugged an under-tunic over his head. Was this chamber filled with all of his belongings?

"Hey, I apologise for any offence given. Where I'm from, it's polite to brush your presence against a colleague. Despite what History may or may not say about me, I've always been a Jedi Master. Not necessarily a _good_ -" He began, waving his hand over his shoulder as he passed the two, getting a better eye for the room.

"Wait, wait, wait. _You're_ a Jedi Master?" Rey demanded, obviously unconvinced on that minute detail. He looked over his shoulder at her.

"Uh huh. It's been uh, what, six years now?" He paused, recent knowledge hammering him once again, "Though I guess it's been considerably longer now. You never told me really how long I've been gone. How's the Alliance doing? And the Republic? What happened to the Sith Empire and the Empire of Zakuul?" He asked quickly, wincing to himself at how desperate he sounded for news. He _was_ desperate, truth be told.

"The Republic was dissolved about sixty years ago and became the Empire. There hasn't been an _official_ Sith Empire in thousands of years – not since the Second Great Galactic W-" Luke began, eyes going wide as he recounted what little information he'd been able to gather over the years. Nasra looked down, his hands trembling at the implications.

" _Thousands_ of years?" He asked quietly. He shakily balled his hands into fists as the room turned silent. Neither of his rescuers sure just what to say. "My Mother," A crate exploded somewhere behind him, a shower of spare cloaks falling from the air. "My Father," A pipe running the length of the wall towards the stasis unit crumpled, crushed by an unseen force. He distantly noticed that both Rey and Luke flinched. "… And my _Brother_!" He snarled, reaching out with a hand towards the machine that stole everything from him. Without thinking, he ripped it from its housing and tore it apart before launching it across the room. His chest was heaving up and down with every furious breath.

"You need to calm down, we're beneath sea-level. Find whatever inner peace you can until we're out of here and the two of us will try to explain all we can." Luke counselled, the odd voice of reason that pierced the fog of his anger.

"You didn't just lose everything, everyone you knew. They're nothing but dust now, if even that." Nasra muttered. He took a shaky breath and moved further into the chamber, uncaring if he was followed. He snorted at what he found. "At least these survived, I suppose."

"We found them just before we found you. I've never seen anything like them." Rey said, appearing at his side, Quarterstaff by her side and lightsaber hidden. Was it pointed in his direction beneath that baggy poncho, he wondered? He felt no malice from her. Pity, sure. A healthy dash of awe as well – and so much raw power, he was momentarily stunned. Huh.

"These were my robes, yes. If you'll excuse me a moment – I need something familiar." He mumbled. Grabbing the mannequin bodily and stomping around her behind some crates to dress. As he fell into the familiar routing of putting the various pieces of armour on and layering the tunic, he could hear the faint, hushed whispers of the two on the other side of the crates.

"This is perfect! I came here looking to bring you back to the Resistance and now I can bring two back! The First Order won't know what hit them!" Rey frantically whispered, the excitement palpable.

"I'm not going to face down the First Order, forget it. I came here for a reason; do you think I'm just about to throw that all away?"

"You could come back afterwards – with the two of you, we'd topple the First Order and beat Kylo in no time!" Oh Force, she was one of _those_. An idealist – an optimist. He'd been one, once – long ago. A freshly minted Jedi Knight given his first missions. For the first few years he remained one. Success after success, victory after victory – all the while people whispering of a 'Destiny' about him. He wasn't sure if it was ego or the idea of 'doing what's right' that led him to agree to capture the Emperor. He'd never been the same after that mission. He sighed as he clipped his belt into place around his waist, the familiar weight of his robes and armour on his body. It wasn't much, but it would ground him for now.

"If you two are done arguing over who's fighting who, I'd like to find my lightsabers." He grumbled, stepping around the crates to gasps from the pair before him – more Rey than Luke, he had to concede. Still, had the Master not seen a battle-ready Jedi before? No wonder he was the last if he hadn't, he thought callously.

"Oh, I think I saw them earlier on the table next to where your robes were. There was a helmet too?" Rey said, trying to at least be helpful and patient with this possible ally. Despite his sour mood, he appreciated the effort – the mention of the helmet made him frown.

"Of course, _that_ survived. Typical." This was a dream, surely and he'd no doubt wake up soon. Maybe. He hoped.

"It's menacing, sure but-" Rey began, confused. He held a hand up to stop the questioning.

"Suffice to say, I… _inherited_ the blasted thing and had it repaired to honour it's former owner. Turned out to come in handy in the years after." He muttered, trying not to think of his time on Yavin and that particular confrontation. Rey took the hint.

As he gathered his lightsabers, briefly activating them to check the powercells, he looked around the room. All his life, his entire career – it all culminated in these crates and datapads. He wondered if there were any descendants of his friends and family out there in the galaxy, wreaking havoc. Did Theron and Lana have a child? He knew they were discussing the possibility last he was aware. He smiled sadly to himself for a moment, remembering his brother. His little brother. Was mother One with the Force? Did his father get taken out on the battlefield like he'd wanted? He knew he was falling into melancholy, but it couldn't be helped. With a sniff, he buried his thoughts deep after a moment and clipped his hilts to his belt, the familiar weight against his thighs.

"I'd like to leave, if it's all the same with you. If and when you decide to leave this planet, I'd appreciate a lift, if you have room of course." Nasra said, turning to look at the two.

"Don't look at me, she's the one with the freighter." Luke shrugged, walking past the two. Nasra and Rey fell into step behind him.

"I'd gladly give you a lift – be it to the Resistance or wherever you'd like to go. I understand if you'd want to get reacquainted with the galaxy. No doubt a lot's changed. I can even get most of this in the cargo hold's with Chewie's help." Rey smiled, glancing upwards as they stepped onto a large lift and ascended a small distance.

Nasra sighed, running his tongue along his top row teeth absently – it was a habit he'd not been able to break since he was a child. Did he really want to become a wanderer? He was no hermit, he knew that much. He'd been born into war, moulded by it – he was a soldier, despite what the Jedi preached. There always seemed to be someone's war to fight, at least.

"What's the Resistance for? Who are you resisting?" He asked idly, watching Rey perk up ever so slightly out of the corner of his eye. He snorted quietly to himself as he stepped over a rocky outcropping as Luke led them through a damp passageway, always moving up and up.

"We're fighting the First Order – what remains of the Empire. The Resistance hopes to restore the Republic, I suppose – The First Order destroyed it a few days ago. Apparently the whole Hosnian system is gone."

"What do you mean 'gone'? Like, a Sith detonated a Supernova again, or _gone_ gone?" He asked, briefly recalling the moment he stepped foot on Ossus – the planet killed by a weaponised Supernova.

"The First Order obliterated the system. The planets are nothing but asteroid's now, according to the reports just before I left. There's no Sith anymore, at least – I think." Rey intoned quietly, he could hear the pain in her voice. Had she felt the deaths? With her raw talent, he wouldn't have been surprised. It sounded like an altogether desperate situation.

"Hm," He murmured as the stone changed to bark, "Well, I'll probably see what's-what with this Resistance then. I'm not saying I'll fight your war, but I'll at least check it out. It's the least I can do after you and Luke woke me up." He offered, raising a hand up to his eyes to shield from the sunlight as he stepped out of a… tree? Just what the kriff had happened while he'd slept?

"Really? You mean it? It'll mean so much to the Resistance that you're a Jedi!" Her enthusiasm was palpable, and he already regretted it.

"I mean it." He breathed, taking a deep breath of fresh air – it seemed Luke wasn't waiting around. Nasra and a grinning Rey kept pace behind him easily enough.

* * *

 **He'd followed Rey** and Luke back to where they appeared to be staying – a little hilltop hamlet of stone huts that were primitively put together but seemed sturdy enough. It appeared he'd been sequestered away in the ass-end of the galaxy.

There was no technology bar what the two strangers had brought with him – which begged the question; just how in the Force had he gotten here? His mind drifted back to his last memories on Odessen and he clamped that down tightly in his mind. He wasn't going to think about it until he absolutely had to. The only way he'd managed to survive the plethora of horrors he'd faced in his life was by either not thinking about it or compartmentalising – the Jedi Mind Healers would have a field day with him. Like Kriff that was ever going to happen, he thought.

The huts seemed to be arranged in a semi-circular fashion before one larger hut, which had promptly become occupied as Luke marched through the doorway and slammed a jury-rigged metal door shut. Rey seemed to have disappeared down the hilltop, likely to check on her ship and he was sat on a bench staring dumbly at huts.

For a man used to the hustle and bustle of military command centres and war, he was at a loss for just what to do. Everything on this damnable island seemed awfully dull and besides himself, the void that was Luke and the optimistic tempest of raw power that was Rey, there wasn't a whole lot of life on this rock. Sure, on the way back Rey had briefly mentioned her friend Chewbacca – a Wookie name if he'd ever heard one, but he figured the two of them would be involved with the ship.

With a bored, childlike sigh, he brought his feet up onto the bench and crossed his legs comfortably. As he closed his eyes, he unhooked the lightsabers from his belt and laid them next to one another on his lap. It wasn't uncommon for Jedi and even Sith to use physical objects as a focal point in their meditations, particularly if they struggled with it – often it was a habit created from the first lessons in meditation in either Order.

His eyes closed, he reached out just like he always did. He reached out, past the bench and past the borders of the island until he was beyond even the planet itself. He like it in Space – there was very little life to distract oneself with and it was utterly silent in the Force. He felt the flows and the currents of life in the cosmos, the small tempests where a brief space battle had left its echoes on the minutia of space debris.

He went further, deeper into the void. He was looking for something, but he had no clue as to what it was. Was he looking for some last way to deny what he'd been told? Some form of evidence to use against them, to deny what they claimed? Perhaps, if he'd been younger, he might have been tempted. He felt something brush by his face, distracting him for just a moment – it felt like cloth and he didn't sense any immediate danger, so he shrugged it off.

The Force itself felt odd, since the last time he'd meditated. It felt _wounded_ – like a limping creature. Not even in the height of the war had he felt something like this – not when Vitiate, or Valkorian or even when Vaylin were still breathing. He frowned, forcing himself deeper, just a little more. So strange.

 _There!_

Something brushed against his senses, just out of reach. It was familiar, yet completely foreign to him. He pursued it with such a relentless abandon that his mother would have cuffed him around the head for being so careless. As the memory of his mother cuffing him surfaced in his mind, he became distracted and lost the presence. He was about to curse when without warning, one of his dearer memories gripped his mind, but not in the sense of remembering a fond encounter. For the first time, he witnessed it as a bystander.

 _He trekked through the under-brush of Odessen, his robe getting caught on the occasional branch or twig – but so powerful was his fury for his current situation, he paid it no mind. First he'd ran the Sith bastard through in his own Temple of Dromund Kaas, then he'd hunted his Kriffing, good for nothing Sith-Spawn of a Spirit through the void, only to discover he'd taken another form, kill_ that _Sheb with a trusty lightsaber through the Spine, only for the Hutt-Slime to take up residence in his head, taunting him. That had led him to his current predicament – he'd woken up in the Jungle._ Apparently _Valkorian could now control his body with his guard down, oh and his helmet was likely still in his quarters, so he also had no means of communications. First chance he got, he was crushing that Sleemo's throat._

 _Absently, he felt a predator attempt to try and pounce at his unprotected back – a simple gesture with his left hand sent an arc of purple-white Sith lightning at the thing. It was charred black in less time than it took to blink – he hadn't even paused in his march. Idly, he realised it was probably one of the less-Jedi things he'd done lately. He could have pacified that creature instead of frying it and falling back on what he'd learned under Vitiate, but he was angry, frustrated, positive he'd walked past_ that _tree before and he wanted to tear Valkorian apart for what he'd done to him._

 _As a Jedi, he was taught that killing was a last resort. As a Sith apprenticed to the Emperor himself, he'd been taught that to kill was necessary to maintain your strength and dominance. He knew himself better than anyone – ever since he'd returned from that blasted mission, he hadn't been the same. He'd been quick to anger, quick to leap into the middle of a fight and quick to kill. Despite it all though, it wasn't unwarranted anger. What Vitiate, Valkorian, whatever he wanted to call himself – what he'd done to him was worthy of that anger, that fury. Some days it was all he had – especially since Kira._

 _That caused him to stop. He wouldn't think of it – couldn't think of it. Not now. If he did, he may never get back to base, for he'd likely wallow in pity under a rock for the rest of his life. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and reached out with the Force. There were two people up ahead, their presence in the Force was muted – hazy. Odd. He shrugged, he still had both of his sabers at the very least._

 _He came to the edge of the underbrush and stepped out from beneath the trees without hesitation. Why should he? This was essentially his planet, and he was the apex predator on it._

" _I've waited for you for a long time." Came a familiar voice from the lone occupant of the camp. Odd, he thought he'd sensed two. That voice was one he would never confuse for anything though and the shock stopped him dead._

" _Mom?!" Nasra gasped, launching himself into a full sprint at her as she stood and turned to face him. The five years he'd been in Carbonite had been tough on her, it seemed. She looked tired – her blue almond-shaped eyes had creases in the corners that hadn't been there before._

" _Welcome to my home, son." She smiled serenely as he crashed into her, lifting her bodily off of the floor._

" _I can't believe it! It's really you! What are you doing here? When did you arrive? Just wait until Theron see's you!" He could barely breathe between the questions. He put her down after a moment, realising once again how he towered over her._

 _She ran a hand affectionately against his bearded face, brushing loose strands of hair that had become plastered to his skin from sweat and the humidity. She seemed lost in the action for a moment, likely having assumed him dead when he'd initially been captured by Zakuul. Suddenly her head snapped to the side as she frowned into nothingness. "Yes, I'm going to offer a meal. Stop rushing me."_

 _That gave him pause. "Uh, Mom? It's just me, and I'm over here." He said slowly, leaning back a little to avoid the swipe he knew was already coming. Really, he was thirty for Force-sakes and he was still avoiding cuffs._

" _You've been through an ordeal. Come, I made some food." Satele offered, affectionately patting his shoulder, ignoring his remark._

 _He sat down eagerly on a nearby log and grabbed an already filled bowl. She must have sensed him approaching. He sniffed it carefully, knowing full well the quality of her food at times. Would his hunger that was now apparently making itself known prevail over his taste buds? Apparently so. With a mouthful of… watery stew, that wasn't supposed to be watery stew, he asked, "So, when did you start talking to thin air? I thought that was Orash-Dan's thing." Without even glancing up from the bowl, he leant to the side and avoided the spoon that flew past his head._

" _Many things changed after you disappeared. I led the fight to save the Republic from Zakuul. Nothing had prepared me to face that enemy. I failed, again and again." His mother said quietly, staring into the heart of the campfire before them. Nasra moved closer to her, putting his arm around her and drawing her into him._

" _This camp isn't new. You've been here for a while. Why didn't you come to me when the Alliance set our base up?"_

 _His mother sighed, her dark, greying hair falling down the front of his tunic gracefully as she leant her head against his shoulder. "When the Republic surrendered to Arcann, I gave myself to the Force. I left the Core Worlds and found this planet. We've been here for years. Waiting."_

" _Again with the-" He began, only to be shushed by Satele. He huffed childishly, rolling his eyes._

" _In the Force, we're never truly alone." She began, smiling absently._

He came to with a start, dropping to the bench with a painful thud. Yep, still on the stone bench. He winced, feeling the bruise that was sure to form on his ankles. It wasn't a surprise he'd levitated himself again – he often took to levitating whatever wasn't bolted down in his meditations. He sat up ungracefully to the large eyes of a shocked Rey.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Rey quickly apologised. He had his suspicions that it hadn't been Rey at all that had pulled him so suddenly from his odd, outer-body-experience-memory. Luckily he hadn't disassembled his lightsabers this time so they were still intact.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I was about done anyway." He shrugged, standing slowly. It seemed night had fallen on the island some time ago. He could see the faint glow of a campfire down below – Chewbacca no doubt. He could smell food. His stomach growled, and Rey grinned cheekily at him. "Hey, I haven't eaten in thousands of years. Leave it out." He grumbled, self consciously placing a hand on his stomach.

"It's fine. I'm turning in for the night, but I thought I saw Chewie cooking something by the Falcon. I'm sure he'd be happy to share. Goodnight Master Shan." Rey said politely, smiling kindly at him as she began walking to one of the huts. He smiled in return, grateful for the kindness she'd shown him since he woke up. He hadn't experienced such kindness and openness from a total stranger in a long time.

He didn't hesitate before making off down the cliff steps for food. The steps were just as primitive as everything else on the island, either hand placed slabs of carved stone or carved from the cliff itself. It only took him a few minutes to make the descent and the view that greeted him was hilariously pathetic.

Sat on a crate before a simple fire and jury-rigged spit was a large dark-haired Wookie looking between a gorgeous, juicy looking roasted bird, and a veritable swarm of the little birds he'd seen everywhere since he'd left that tree. They were sat staring at his food, which was obviously one of their own with large, sad eyes.

The Wookie let out an irritated roar at the small flock and turned smugly in its seat, jaw wide as it went to take a bite, only to see a single stubborn bird staring right at it. Nasra snorted as he approached loud enough to scare the little thing off, its awful caw loud in the silent sky and its little wings flapping in its haste to leave.

"Mind if I grab that one on the spit and join you?" Nasra asked, practically salivating already just at the sight of it. It looked delicious. The skin had already turned a gorgeous crispy golden colour and little beads of fat were trickling down, only to fall into the fire and momentarily cause it to flare.

Chewbacca whoofed his acceptance and shimmied over on the crate he was sat on, his sharp fangs already in the breast of the carcass he held.

Nasra wasted no time either. The moment he was sat on that crate next to the large Wookie, his own teeth were sunk into the meat – he moaned happily. With a mouthful of meat, he looked side-on to Chewbacca and nodded appreciatively, pointing at the food in his right hand. "This is _good_!"

Chewbacca let out a few barks in response, his mouth similarly filled.

"I do _not_ eat like a starved Hutt!" He sputtered in response, idly aware that in just a few mouthfuls, he'd decimated half of the bird. His cheeks turned a light pink. "You're one to talk in any case! Anyway, I haven't had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. Nasra Shan – you must be Chewbacca." He offered, holding a hand out to the Wookie. Chewbacca shook it gently. The two of them went back to eating in a comfortable silence.


	3. Ach-To III

**The sun shone** down on her face, stirring her from her peaceful slumber. Had the morning come so soon? She'd barely been able to sleep after Master Skywalker offered her three lessons, and apparently the answer as to why he wanted the Order to fade away from the galaxy.

As her still sleep addled mind began to register everything around her, she slowly blinked her eyes awake, pushing herself up slowly from the stone bed she'd been sleeping on these past few days. Her body felt stiff, sore from the hard surface she'd been on, evidently the blanket had done little to comfort her.

She sat there a moment, yawning as she usually did and sleepily looking about the small hut. Her Quarterstaff was off to her left by the window, her bag within arms reach to her right and the firepit in the centre of the room was nothing more than ash covered stone. All in all, everything was as it should be. Opening and closing her mouth one or two times, it was apparent she'd need something to rid the taste of sleep from her mouth.

Something felt different about this morning though, and she couldn't quite place her finger on it. Was it the knowledge that the odd addition to this small, highly dysfunctional group had offered to travel to the Resistance with her? Was it the slight wariness she still felt knowing he'd been a prisoner of the Jedi?

As she blinked once more, her entire body tensed, and she could no longer hear the sounds of the island – she couldn't even feel the clothes on her body. She looked to her right slowly, body fully awake. Something was wrong.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was here. That murderous, treacherous villain was in her hut staring at her, eyes wide in confusion and mouth slightly agape. It was with a little bit of satisfaction she noticed the scar across his face that she'd bestowed upon him on Starkiller Base.

 _Kylo Ren._

Remembering herself, she dove for the pistol to her right atop her bag, flicked the safety like Han had shown her, aimed down the sights and shot at him in the chest. He grimaced his teeth, preparing for the killing blow and she blinked.

He was gone. What magic was this? In his place was a smouldering hole in the side of the hut, rubble raining down both the inside and outside as the stone glowed a cool red – like the blade Kylo wielded.

Pistol in hand, Rey was on her feet and charging out of the hut in seconds, eyes darting this way and that in a desperate attempt to discover where he'd gone. The sun was out in full and the hamlet seemed quiet – too quiet. Carefully, she took a few steps out into the open, hand on her blaster and ready. That same tense feeling returned, and she spun around slowly.

There he is!

" _You will bring Luke Skywalker to me."_ Kylo's deep voice commanded, a hand outstretched as if to use the Force on her again. Like when he tried to torture her for information. She would give him nothing. The memories of the prior few weeks made her seethe with righteous fury at the man, no, the _boy_ before her. He seemed to realise this as he rolled his jaw and pulled his arm back. _"You're not doing this; the effort would kill you."_

She said nothing, not trusting her own voice.

He seemed confused. Good, she thought vapidly. He looked around himself for a moment, asking, _"Can you see my surroundings?"_

"You're going to pay for what you did!" She spat, losing the inner war with herself. It surprised her just how acidly she spat those words, as if each syllable was its own blaster bolt.

" _I can't see yours,"_ he finished, ignoring her words. _"Just you. So, no… This is something else."_

A clang behind her made her spin. Skywalker was coming! Would Kylo be able to see him? Would Skywalker see Kylo? Her mind was filled with panic. A second later, the snap-hiss of a lightsaber caused her head to turn once more to the steps where a confused and alert Nasra was stood defensively, eyes scanning for threats.

Kylo's eyes darted to both sounds, _"Luke?"_

"What's that about?" Skywalker asked, pointing past her. Could he see Kylo? Nasra turned his head to gaze at Rey for the first time – his eyes becoming wide for the briefest of moments. He knew!

Her gaze returned to Kylo, only to find him gone – vanished into thin air. What had caused that? How had it happened? In any case, her body felt less tense now – perhaps it was a one-time thing? A freak accident in the Force, perhaps. Instead of Kylo though, were a pair of aliens, the local species of the planet and resident inhabitants of the village picking up and clearing rubble from the hole she'd made. They looked less than impressed, making gestures with their hands and muttering loudly in their own language.

She turned to Skywalker and Nasra, her mouth agape and her brow furrowed. "I was uh, cleaning my blaster and it went off." Skywalker seemed to accept it without much argument but there was something in the ancient Jedi's, if he really was who he said he was, expression that showed her he believed none of it. Nasra deactivated his blade.

She looked about once more – the natives were everywhere. Where had they come from? They weren't here last night, were they?

"Let's get started then." Skywalker said, beginning to walk away – his dark coat flapping gently in the breeze as he walked past a quiet Shan.

She made to follow and Nasra fell into step beside her quietly. Something told her that the following conversation was going to be unpleasant.

"So…" He began slowly, pursing his lips. His hair gently blew in the breeze and she realised for the first time just how long it was, falling to the middle of his back. "Care to explain to me who that was, or are we going to pretend you didn't just lie to your Master?"

"He's not my Master," She corrected him quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic. Besides, Skywalker was only a few meters ahead – he might hear them!

"And I'm a Hutt." He came back with just as quickly, stepping over a small rock that had fallen into the stepped path at some point. As her eyes swept around as they left the village, Rey realised that Skywalker was leading them both to the highest point of the island. Well, leading _her_ – Nasra was just along for the sake of it, it seemed.

"I don't want to talk about it." She snapped, wincing just slightly at how harsh her voice sounded. The Jedi didn't even so much as blink at her response, just pursed his lips once more, nodded and quickened his pace just a little.

"Oh, by the way – little bit of drool right here." He threw over his shoulder, tapping the right corner of his mouth with a small smirk. Rey stopped dead in her tracks, mortified at the thought. Hesitantly, he touched where he'd indicated and felt a spot of damp.

 _Damn him._

The inside of the Jedi Temple was unlike anything she'd expected, not that she had any inkling as to what she was expecting. The dark grey stone was chipped and carved, forming the walls, floor and high vaulted ceilings of each room she entered. It was simple yet had some ethereal beauty to it. She couldn't help but gaze around in wonder, trying to drink it all in with her eyes.

She almost tripped on the first set of interior steps leading up to a large chamber that Skywalker and Shan were already in. Nasra seemed to be looking around, equally as curious – Skywalker just seemed indifferent to it all.

The central chamber was large, but empty. The only decoration in the room was a small circular pond filled with water that had a mosaic in. Little droplets of water would drip into the surface every now and then, disturbing the silence for just the briefest of heartbeats as the water rippled. Both Jedi walked right past it and towards a rocky protrusion that led outside.

This place was incredible.

She joined the two Jedi outside, the sun shining on her face gently – she felt warm, at peace. "Master Skywalker, we need you to bring the Jedi back," She began earnestly. For some reason, it felt like the plea held more weight than ever, now, in this moment. "because Kylo Ren is strong with the Dark Side of the Force. Without the Jedi, we won't stand a chance against him."

Luke stood unflinching before a large stone altar. His hands were clasped behind his back and the light from the sun shone down on him from above. In that moment, she believed every tale she'd ever heard of the legend before her. Nasra stepped around her and leaned against the rocky entryway, arms folded across his chest.

"What do you know about the Force?" Skywalker asked, ignoring her plea. That gave her pause and for a moment, she had no idea.

"It's a power that Jedi have that lets then control people and… make things float." She answered lamely, aware of both sets of eyes on her. For some reason, she felt like she'd just failed a test.

 _Someone_ was trying to stifle a chuckle behind her. Did she still have her blaster? She turned her head slowly to face the offending being who merely raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Impressive. Every word in that sentence was wrong." Skywalker turned and pointed to the altar as he walked before it. When had he picked up the leaf he was using to point at it? "Lesson one, sit here, legs crossed."

She hoped she hadn't rushed to sit there too eagerly. She gazed up at the man before her, fighting the urge to grin like a small child.

"The Force is not a power you have. It's not about lifting rocks. It's the energy between all things, a tension, a balance, that binds the universe together." Luke began.

Rey nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all. "Okay," She nodded, "But what _is_ it?" She asked longingly. Maybe this is what she'd felt was missing all her life.

"Close your eyes," Rey did as she was told and licked her lips nervously, "Breathe." One large inhale and exhale later, "Now, reach out."

She stretched out her right arm, fingers stretched as far as they could go. What was she supposed to feel? Nothing? Perhaps if she focused a little harder. Something tickled her fingers!

She gasped in shock, "I feel something!" She couldn't help but grin.

"You feel it?" Skywalker asked, his voice full of shock.

"Yes, I feel it!"

"That's the Force!" He whispered.

"Really?"

"Wow, it must be really strong with you!" He exclaimed excitedly, perhaps this would convince him to return to the Resistance with her?

"I've never felt any-" A slap to the back of her fingers snapped her eyes open and she gasped in shock, "Ow!" She cried out, shaking the pain from her fingers, glaring briefly up at the unimpressed look on Skywalkers face. What had she done wrong?!

Oh.

She touched her chest, her voice low. "You meant reach out like…" Skywalker said nothing, but his raised eyebrows said everything. "I'll try again." At least Skywalker threw away the leaf into the breeze.

Gently, Skywalker placed her hands onto the stone either side of her. "Breathe. Just breathe. Reach out with your feelings." What in stars did _that_ mean?

One deep breath, then two. What was that feeling she'd felt on Starkiller? She tried to remember the feel of it, when suddenly it returned, clearer than before and so wonderful.

"Now, what do you see?" The voice seemed calm, distant – but pleasant.

"The island." She replied, seeing an image of it in her mind's eye. If she squinted, she could make the three of them out on the cliff – had Nasra moved closer? "Life." She could feel the life in the grasses of the island, in the sea around it. There was so much! "Death and decay." She frowned – it was an unpleasant experience, feeling such a thing. It was cold, clammy and, "That feeds new life."

The feeling of it all was exhilarating. Was this what Nasra had used to float above the bench last night? She couldn't imagine never feeling this again. "Warmth." The sun shone on her with such a warmth it was indescribable, but as soon as it was there, it was gone – replaced by the most bitter cold she thought she may freeze, "Cold."

"Peace." The Porgs, she realised they were called absently swarmed the island in their nests, rearing their young. "Violence." She frowned, feeling a Porg Hatchling lose its fledgling life to the violent waves that crashed against the rocks.

"And between it all?" Skwalker asked.

"Balance. An energy," She paused, her lips turning up in a small smile, "A Force."

"And inside you?"

"Inside me… That same Force." She had never felt such a feeling. She felt she could float here about the island for the rest of time.

"And this is the lesson. That Force does not belong to the Jedi. To say that if the Jedi die, the light dies, is vanity. Can you feel that?" Luke preached emotionally.

Rey frowned for a moment. Something didn't feel right.

"There's something else. Beneath the island. A place. A dark place." Her heart rate quickened. It was calling to her, pulling her in but no matter what she did, she couldn't escape it.

"Balance. Powerful light, powerful darkness." Skywalker answered, his voice wary. He sounded confused – could he not feel it? It was suffocating!

"It's cold," Rey breathed, in her mind she could see the breath bogging before her face – her lips became chapped and her teeth chattered, despite the sun, despite the warmth. Where had it gone? She searched for it desperately. Anything to escape this nightmare. Distantly she heard a deep crack. "It's calling me." She cried.

"Resist it, Rey!" Came Skywalkers order, real concern in his voice. That did nothing to help the panic! "Rey? Rey!" Skywalker shouted.

The last thing Rey saw before she was violently pulled from wherever she was, was a large hole in the rock by the ocean, wild, oily black seaweed growing out of it and a large jet of water rushing to meet her.

With a gasp, she was on her hands and knees gasping and something was pressed against her forehead. She gulped in air hungrily, indulging in each fish like gasp. She was wet through, had she really touched some water? She didn't feel sweaty!

After a moment, she noticed Nasra knelt next to her, a concerned expression on his face and a pair of fingers gently touching her forehead. Had he pulled her out of whatever dark hole she'd fallen into? She pulled herself up on the alter, resting on her knees for a moment as she looked back at a terrified looking Skywalker.

"You went straight to the dark." He muttered. Suddenly Nasra was on his feet, spinning around and rounding on the Jedi.

"What did you expect was going to happen? This was no doubt her first time touching the Force! She needed guiding, someone there to walk her through it! Not an old man reading out instructions!" Nasra fumed. Rey was still blinking the water from her eyes. Skywalker said nothing.

"That place was trying to show me something." Rey breathed, her pulse racing a mile a minute.

"It offered something you needed." Nasra answered, much more calmly as he knelt back down before her, a concerned frown on his face.

"And you didn't even try to stop yourself." Skywalker mumbled, taking more steps back. He'd almost made it inside when Rey realised that Nasra had been telling the truth the day before.

"But I didn't see you." She called out. Skywalker halted at the entrance to the precipice. "Nothing from you. You've closed yourself off from the Force." Surprisingly, she wasn't angry, or confused or anything – just… sad. Skywalker turned to look at her slowly. "Of course you have."

"I've seen this raw strength only once before, in Ben Solo. It didn't scare me enough then. It does now." Luke responded, his voice trembling. Without another word, Skywalker was gone leaving the two kneeling by the altar.

"He shouldn't have done that." Nasra said quietly after a few moments. The man sighed deeply and put his face in his right hand, his left holding the altar. He seemed tired suddenly – was it her fault? "What was the purpose of this lesson? Did he tell you?"

"He came to me late last night and told me he'd give me three lessons about the Jedi," She paused, gasping another breath, "And why they need to end."

"The fool." Nasra sneered, standing angrily suddenly. She thought he was going to chase after Skywalker but instead he just began pacing. After a moment, he paused and helped her back up onto the altar. "Sit as you were before."

She opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself at the look on his face. Silently she folded her feet beneath her once more. "Now," he began, his voice low as he grasped her hands gently. His hands were softer than she'd expected. They were calloused from who knew what, but they weren't unpleasant – they were comforting, in a way. "When a Youngling is brought to the Temple, they're sorted into something called a Creche. It's a sort of small group of children – the youngest of the Order."

She stared at him, wondering where this was going. Was he comparing her to a child?

"No I'm not calling you a child." How did he…?

"I didn't say anything-" She began, but was shushed abruptly. Nasra tapped the side of her head.

"You project your thoughts loudly - scream them, actually. Over time, you'll learn to shield your thoughts and feelings. Now, as I was saying," He smirked, closing his eyes. Rey felt obliged to do so as well. "Jedi Knights and Jedi Masters will share a Youngling's first experiences of the Force with them. They'll guide them in their exploration but shield them from the darker elements. You should have had something similar today. It wasn't you fault. If you'd like, I can guide you through it again." He offered, and she felt something foreign brush against her mind. It wasn't intrusive, or malevolent like it had been on Starkiller – this felt more like a hand held out to help her up.

"Maybe later. I need some time." Rey replied softly, the feeling of the darkness still too vivid in her mind. She opened her eyes slowly and saw a look of complete understanding on the older man's face. Had he experienced the Darkness himself? "Have you ever had something like that?"

The Jedi paused for a moment, breathing deeply and closed his eyes. Something told her he had. "Yes," He answered eventually. "For a time, I was a Sith Apprentice to the Sith Emperor Vitiate."

Her eyes went wide – she hadn't expected something like that! Was he still a Sith? Was he going to kill her and Skywalker? "I-" She began, backing up from him on the altar a little to try and give herself a small chance.

"I'm not a Sith." He cut her off quickly, "I failed in a mission and was captured, along with several other Jedi. Vitiate was… power. Raw, unadulterated power. Standing before him was like stepping into a black hole. He overwhelmed us with a single wave of his hand." Nasra stood now, turning to gaze across the ocean. His arms were folded across his chest, but she couldn't read his expression as his back was to her. His voice became distant. "I was under his influence for a while. I committed deeds I can never hope to atone for in his name. He dominated our minds – his thoughts were our thoughts. I've not been the same since. So yes, Rey – I know the Darkness. We're old friends."

He fell into silence after that and Rey felt she was intruding on something personal - she left without a word.

* * *

 **It had been** some hours since the incident in the Temple, if it could really be called that, he supposed. Did the two of them really believe that this island was the birthplace of the Jedi? He'd give credit for imagination, at least.

In the time since he'd unnerved the young Rey, he'd taken to moving everything out of the chamber where he'd been kept in stasis. Besides the pipes that seemed to run the machinery, there was very little bolted down, so he took all of it. The war's he'd fought had often taught him not to overlook anything in case he'd need it in the future.

He'd checked each crate, only to find them full of his clothing, armour or personal items. He'd even found his collection of lightsabers – you never knew when you'd need a spare. He'd gotten through so many over the years, it just seemed the smart thing to do. He'd nearly been swept off his feet when he found _her_ saber though.

" _Where is he?!" He roared, storming through the Alliance Command Center. His pulse was racing, could feel the blanket of the Darkside fall over him and knew that his eyes were a sickly yellow. Lightning snapped along his arms, striking nearby machinery. Sparks and exploding terminals were left in his wake._

" _Nasra, I don't think now is a-" Lana began, trying to step before him – a hand held out to his chest to slow him down. He swept her into the wall with barely a thought._

 _The door at the end of the corridor was all that stood in his way from his goal. He wanted vengeance._

 _First, the door crumpled in on itself, gripped by some unseen force. The moans and screeches of the protesting material filled the silenced corridor. Half the base was stood behind him, peering around the far corner where it appeared safe. With a heave, the door blew inwards and sailed across the room and imbedding itself in the far rocky wall._

 _Arcann stood from his chair slowly. He seemed to sigh deeply as he placed whatever datapad he'd been reading down on the table he'd been sat at with his mother. Did Senya know about any of this? He'd find out soon enough._

" _Shan, what can I-" Arcann began, grunting as Nasra marched up to him and grabbed him by the throat before bodily throwing him onto the table. Senya gave a startled cry as she moved to help her son._

" _Let him go, Nasra!" She demanded, gripping his shoulders from behind. He would be unmoved._

" _When were you going to tell me?!" He roared in Arcann's face, spittle flying everywhere. He was desperate for blood._

" _I-" Arcann tried, his face purple. He gripped the front of Arcann's white tunic and launched him bodily into the corridor – the man was gasping for air in seconds. The snap-hiss of Senya's lightsaber-pike behind him gave him pause. He turned slowly._

" _If you know what's good for you, sheathe the blade. Stay out of this." He commanded coldly. His teeth clenched tightly. It was a wonder he hadn't shattered any of his teeth._

" _Senya, don't try to fight him like this!" Theron's voice called through the door. He was knelt over an unconscious Lana. "He needs to work through it!"_

" _Did you know?!" Nasra suddenly demanded, turning his burning gaze upon his younger brother. Surely Theron wouldn't have held something as big as this back from him, would he?_

" _Republic SIS were the ones that found her. We needed you to lead the fight against Zakuul. We needed you focused._ I _needed you focused." His brother replied, meeting his gaze sadly. "Afterwards, there was never a good time to mention it, there was always another crisis. I'm sorry."_

 _He leapt at Arcann who had staggered to his feet, fists swinging wildly. There was no rhyme or reason to his attacks as he straddled the man below him. "You-" He screamed, punctuating every word with a slam of his fist, "had, my, wife, murdered!"_

 _After a time, the punches stopped. The fury was leaving him, replaced with such an unimaginable loss that he couldn't describe. He looked down at the man below him who was staring up at him apologetically, his eyes wide in shock. On the floor either side of Arcann's head, were groupings of indents where Nasra had slammed his fists. He could feel the blood from his knuckles running down to his fingertips, dripping onto the stone floor._

" _You had my pregnant wife murdered." He moaned pitifully, collapsing into sobs, uncaring of who saw him in this state. He barely felt the arms that gently pulled him from the focus of his anger._

He frowned at the unbidden memory that surface in his thoughts. That was one of the moments he was less proud of, if he were honest with himself. Kira's death had weighed heavily on him for a time, well through the conflict following the events of Ossus. He sighed deeply and felt not for the first time, very tired.

He'd push through it though, as he always did. He'd have to. As he allowed his feet to carry him along the rocky terrain of the little island, he felt the gentle breeze on him face and smiled slightly at the smell of the fresh ocean just below him. How long had it been since he'd set foot on an unspoiled planet? There was a unique calmness on planets such as this.

His hair was loose, blowing in the wind – in all the items he'd been able to find that belonged to him in all those crates, how was it that there wasn't a single hair-tie or strip of leather he could use? The first opportunity he got, he was tying it back in his usual knot. Maybe one day he'd get around to getting it cut.

As he began walking down a set of stone steps, he caught sight of a training Rey. She was stood on a cliff that had a single large stone jutting out the top of it. If his eyes were true, it looked vaguely like it had been carved to resemble a training post. Interesting.

Below him, Rey was making use of such a find with her Quarterstaff, swinging it about her body with what he was sure she thought of as controlled sweeps and jabs. He winced as he watched her sloppy footwork and exaggerated swings. Who had taught her to fight?

He was tempted to speak up, though she seemed unaware of his presence. It was a rare opportunity he was presented with – speak up and continue the conversation of the lie she'd told earlier or study the young woman in a way he'd no doubt never get to if she knew he were there.

Making his decision, he took a seat on one of the steps and pulled out a small strip of cooked meat he'd managed to sneak from Chewbacca, or Chewie as the Wookie insisted. He looked up again, taking a small, measured bite of his snack and watched.

Her stance was off balance and her attacks left her body far too open. These were immediately obvious. What was interesting, however was the strength and power behind each blow. He hadn't seen a hint of Rey practicing any defending moves, leading him to presume her to be an offensive fighter. If she were a trained Jedi, he was beginning to get an inkling as to her preferred Form – Djem So, Form V.

The girl paused for a moment, leaning on the glorified stick – he never really had been a fan of Quarterstaffs. He understood them, logically and martially but the abundance of hits he'd taken from one of his earlier master's made him stubbornly dislike the things. Handy for leaning to use a Saberstaff though, he'd concede.

Rey seemed to be distracted as well. She seemed more out of breath than he would have expected of her, though he had to admit he had no idea as to how long she'd been at it – hours, maybe? Perhaps she'd come here after her first tragic exploration of the Force.

He noticed for the first time her actual build as well – gone was the grey poncho and the jacket. She stood catching her breath in the same dark pair of boots she'd worn yesterday and some dark brown pants that cut off just past her knees. The cream, sleeveless tunic she wore eerily resembled a standard Jedi tunic while her arms were covered in some sort of wrapping. The blaster she'd discharged earlier was holstered on her right thigh, hanging from a dark brown leather belt – maybe he could slice a strip off when she wasn't looking? He threw that thought aside with a snort – he wasn't so desperate as to use other people's items.

Her build was interesting in comparison to her fighting style though – she was built very athletically, toned in a way that hinted at a hard living and was slim. There was no obvious mass of muscle though, at least none that he would expect from a Djem So practitioner, not that she was anywhere near becoming one at this rate though. Still, he had hope – the Force always found a way for the Jedi to continue, it seemed.

Rey gazed down at her bag that seemed to have been discarded on the floor to her right and pulled something out of it. He frowned, what could it be?

The snap-hiss made him smile. He was wondering when she'd switch to that.

Rey held the blade before her in both hands, the deep blue blade humming strongly. This could go one of two ways, he thought with a wince. Dropping her left hand to her side, he watched as she held it horizontally, a hairs breadth from the stone before her, leaning on to her right as she did so.

She moved it to the left, leaning in the same way and shifting her weight ever so slightly. Was she trying to salute the rock?

He felt the void approach him from behind quietly, stopping by his side as Rey began falling into her routine, spinning the blade around her slowly.

"She's an interesting one." He spoke up quietly to the man beside him. He looked up from his seat to see Luke's eyes flicker down to him briefly. "I've only been watching for a few minutes and the potential is there. Needs to fix her footwork though." He winced, catching Rey almost stumble from a spinning sweep.

She turned her body all the way to the right, bringing her saber behind her back in a two-handed grip – his muscles seemed to cramp just watching the movement, and frowned as she moved into a powerful overhead hack. In what fighting scenario could she think that was a valid series of movements?! What was she doing, fighting flying crates?!

Oh, here it came – Rey had caught sight of the two of them mid-spin and lost her focus. As she completed the horizontal swipe, the blade of the saber carried on and neatly sliced through the stone. She'd killed a piece of rock by accident. He placed his right and over his mouth to conceal his chuckle. Luke left without a word as the rock tumbled down the cliff. Rey had stood at the edge, looking sheepish as she de-activated the blade. He also felt the annoyance of two of the locals just a little bit below.

She turned around to look up at him as he stood, he gave her a solid thumbs up for effort.

"Lesson Two. Now that they're extinct, the Jedi are romanticized, deified," Luke began, pausing as he sat down at the edge of the pool in the Temple chamber. "but if you strip away the myth and look at their deed, the legacy of the Jedi is failure."

Okay, this had to stop.

"Now hang on just a minute," Nasra began, pushing himself up from his slouched position against the wall at the back of the room. Both Luke and Rey turned their heads to look at him. "Just because the Jedi of your time got themselves wiped out, doesn't mean we failed as an organisation."

"They allowed Darth Sidious to rise to power, create the Empire and wipe them out. It was a Jedi who was personally responsible for the training and creation of Darth Vader." The self-exiled Master replied.

"And the Jedi throughout the _thousands_ of years have put down every other Sith they've come up against, or we managed to pull them into the Light! Don't you _dare_ dismiss their achievements for the purposes of trying to convince Rey that we're failures." He responded, waving his hand across him in a cutting motion. He ran his tongue over his lips as he thought of how best to phrase his next words.

"Listen, there's a million reasons as to why the galaxy needs something like the Jedi Order," he started slowly as he sat next to Rey at the pool, with her acting as a buffer between himself and Luke. "but there's also a million reasons as to why the galaxy doesn't need the Jedi. It's going to be up to you to decide what you want your role to be. The commitment to the Jedi way is a life-long one." He added, looking pointedly at the darkly dressed man on the far side of the pool. "I grew up in a time where there were thousands of Jedi and thousands of Sith. The two factions laid waste to the galaxy. You have a power, that much is obvious. You're one of special few who possess such a gift – what you choose to do with it is up to you, and only you."

"What were the Jedi like, in your time?" Rey asked slowly.

He chuckled, oh this was going to be satisfying. "The Jedi of my time were based on our ancient home world."

"You were here?"

He shook his head, gesturing to the room around them. "Do you really think this is the birthplace of the Jedi? No, our home was _Tython_. It was a planet in the Deep Core that was so strong in the Force that the planet reacted to drastic changes of balance. If there was a gathering of Darkness, Force-storms would blacken the sky and the ground would shift violently beneath your feet. On the other hand, if there was a strong presence of the Lightside, such as the Jedi Temple there, there was such a feeling of calmness and peace you wouldn't believe."

"Then why does everything point to this as the first Temple?" Luke asked, confused. Nasra could only shrug.

"I don't know – Tython's location was lost to us a few times throughout our history. It was my mother who rediscovered it. I can only assume that its location was lost again – I know the co-ordinates from my time, but I'd need a computer or droid of some kind to calculate for orbital and galactic drift. I know of several other outposts and planets we occupied as well – The Great Jedi Library on Ossus is one. So much knowledge was stored there, I'm curious as to if it remains. Ilum was another. We had a Temple there to oversee Padawans who would venture to retrieve their lightsaber crystals."

Luke's mouth was agape, "I had no idea. All this time and I was looking in the wrong place." He paused before asking, "So what purpose did Ahch-To serve?"

"I have no idea. I've never heard of Ahch-To. Is that where we are now? It's quaint but overwhelmingly basic for a Jedi Temple."

"What do you mean?" Rey asked, looking about the room.

"Well, there's only this room, the set of stairs we came up and that ledge. There're no training rooms, no dormitories and no basic food preparation area. Not to mention the size of it and there's what, space enough for your freighter to land on the island and that's it. Jedi Temples were busy places, at least in my time. This looks more like a master's personal retreat or something an exiled Jedi Master would put together to honour a Temple."

"I'd have liked to have seen them." Rey breathed quietly, her eyes staring off into the middle distance, no doubt trying to picture an actual Jedi Temple.

"I'm sure you will, in time. If the opportunity ever presents itself, I have no issues with showing the two of you my old home and a few of our old outposts. If any have survived. They had a habit of getting blown up." He chuckled, remembering all the blown out remains he's seen over the years. Tython, Ilum, Dantooine, Ithor, Corellia, Coruscant, Ossus – the list went on and on.

"Blown up by who?" Came the startled question from the woman on his right.

"The Sith. Though, from what Chewie's told me, they're as dead as the Jedi. Your doing, I hear." He replied, looking at Luke.

"I became a legend for it." Luke sighed. His eyes seemed to gloss over for a moment, lost in the past. "For years, there was balance. And then I saw Ben." Who was this Ben? It seemed he was the only one in the room who didn't know the name. "My _nephew_ with that mighty Skywalker blood and in my hubris, I thought I could train him, I could pass on my strengths." Skywalker paused for a moment, eyes looking at the floor by his boots but not really seeing anything.

"Han was _Han_ about it, but… Leia," Luke's mouth worked for a moment and in the fading light, Nasra saw what looked like the beginnings of unshed tears in the eyes of the man on the other side of the pool. "trusted me with her son. I took him, and a dozen students, and began a Training Temple."

Luke stood, pacing away from the pool for a few steps. He stood, back to the two of them – even from here, the mans defeated posture was obvious. "By the time I realised I was no match for the darkness rising in him, it was too late."

"What happened?" Nasra asked, frowning. Did the boy turn to the Darkside?

"I went to confront him. And he turned on me. He must have thought I was dead. When I came to, the temple was burning. He had vanished with a handful of my students and slaughtered the rest. Leia blamed Snoke but, it was me. I failed. Because I was Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master. A _legend_." Skywalker sneered the word as he turned to face the two before him.

That was the reason he'd cut himself off from the Force? This _Ben_ fell to the Darkside and burned his Temple down? That was it? He felt sympathy for the man, truly he did – but to resign the entire Order to the grave because of a single failing was absurd.

"You have my condolences, truly, but this is absurd. You had a deep loss, a personal one yes, but the Jedi Order shouldn't end because of it. The number of students that have fallen over the millennia is incalculable. Do you think the master's believed the Order should fade away because of them?" Nasra said slowly, standing. "Some of the most infamous Sith were Jedi before they fell! Exar Kun, Ulic Qel-Droma, Malak, Freedon Nadd, Darth Traya and Ajunta Paal to name a few. Hell, even the founder of my family line was a Jedi turned Sith at one point – Revan. The Order didn't give up though. You trip, and you stumble and yes you make mistakes, but you just have to pick yourself back up."

"You don't understand-" Skywalker began, looking into the pool.

"No, I do – more than you know. I taught students whenever I was at the Temple, it was my duty as the Battlemaster of the Jedi. I was a legend myself to the galaxy in my time. I personally defeated the Emperor of the Sith Empire, something the Sith never recovered from. I killed the Eternal Emperor Valkorian of Zakuul and defeated both of his children. I led an alliance to topple Zakuul – that alliance had Jedi and Sith working together towards a common goal, and the last thing I remember, I was fighting another war against an opportunistic Sith Empress. So yes, I know a thing or two about being a legend." Nasra paused, taking a breath. "But if you think that I'd keel over and wait for the end because one of my students fell, you're wrong."

Rey, who had been silent for a time spoke up, still sat on the edge of the pool. "The galaxy could do with a few legends. I need someone to show me my place in all this."

Both men were silent as she stood. Nasra was pacing slowly, his arms folded across his chest and a strange, foreign feeling in his chest. He hadn't felt this way in years. Luke was stood looking at Rey, clear, unshed tears in his eyes. This was a man who had been broken by one too many tragedies.

"And you didn't fail Kylo. Kylo failed you. I won't." Rey promised before she stalked out of the room.

There was silence in the wake of her departure. Skywalker continued to stare absently into the pool and Nasra looked at him quietly. Slowly, the younger of the two approached the elder.

"She has spirit, I'll give her that. I could've used a few like her over the years. Reminds me of someone I knew." He said softly before placing a hand gently on Luke's shoulder. "Look, I get why you've done what you've done. I was born into the Order – my mother was the Grandmaster. It's all I know. I can't sit by and let it fade away. I won't." Nasra paused, as he turned to walk away, looking over his shoulder. "The Jedi Order is my home. It was yours too. Don't you think it's about time you came back to it?"

* * *

 **It was some** hours later and the sun was just about to disappear beyond the horizon. He'd been sat in the hut that a local had pushed him towards when he'd try to ask for some privacy. The locals had burst in a few minutes' prior, dressed in what he assumed was their version of finery as they grabbed him by the hands and dragged him out into the village at the bottom of the cliffs.

Bells were ringing. Was something going on? He sensed no panic or fear, just a palpable sense of excitement.

They came to a stop in the centre of the village where an array of food was set out and the locals were dancing. Were they celebrating something? As he turned his head, he caught sight of a feasting Chewbacca and an astromech he hadn't seen before. The sight of it reminded him of his own faithful companion, Teeseven. What had happened to him, he wondered?

Dismissing the thought, he smiled slightly as he approached the Wookie and droid, who were surrounded by a small gathering of locals. No doubt they thought them fascinating.

"I see they grabbed you as well. And who might you be?" He greeted, kneeling before the droid.

He received a few beeps and doots in response. If he hadn't been around so many droids when he was younger, he might not have understood the binary language, but luckily for him, he did.

"Pleased to meet you, Artoo Detoo. I'm Jedi Master Nasra Shan. Now, what is it you're eating this time? He asked, turning to look at the plethora of food available.

Chewbacca made a series of whoofing noises and tilted his head to the side inquisitively.

"You'd be right. Bastila Shan was a part of my 'Clan'. I'm her direct descendant, born roughly three hundred years after she helped free your people." He answered. He wasn't surprised at the long memories of Wookie's – they were a deceptively long-lived species and remembered what many forgot.

Chewbacca nodded and made a few more grunts and growls in his language and Nasra chuckled softly, picking up a plateful of what appeared to be some sort of large fish. He took an experimental bite and nodded appreciatively. "I'm glad someone remembers them. When I was young, my mother made sure my younger brother and I knew about our family."

The slap on his back was unexpected and nearly sent him flying over the table. The digital raspberry that Artoo blew followed by the binary laughter made it known that he'd seen it. He seemed to have quite the personality. Nasra couldn't help the laugh that left his lips at the Wookie's next few words though.

"Alright, if you think you're Wookie enough. Put your money where your fangs are and get the cups. I'll find the booze."

He wasn't sure how long it had been since Chewie had challenged him to the ultimate contest that two warriors could compete in. It wasn't a test of martial prowess, or mental astuteness, but of one's ability to hold liquor.

He had to admit he had more than an unfair advantage in this regard. Jedi and Sith were trained early on, at least in his experience, in purging toxins from the body using the Force. Obviously for two very different reasons – Jedi used it for healing, and Sith used it to avoid being poisoned by their apprentice's and acolytes.

As a result, Nasra was sat with his feet up on the bench and his back resting against the slumped form of Chewbacca, who was sleeping off the effects of the local concoction. He grinned and winked at the droid that had been watching the two of them for some time. He took a sip from his cup – victory had a bitter initial taste but a soothing warmth in his chest that reminded him of some variants of Coruscanti ale.

The music of the little festival abruptly ended when a lightsaber slashed through the wooden gate and an angry looking Rey changed through, saber held above her head. Every pair of eyes turned to look at her as she stood there confused.

A native spun a string of something and made a few noises in their language. Nasra chuckled to himself. He watched as understanding dawned on Rey and she awkwardly waved the saber back and forth a few times to the cheers of the village.

The music and dancing continued as if nothing had happened and he saw Rey look in his direction. "Seriously?" She asked.

He merely shrugged and laughed merrily to himself as the village drew her into the festivities.

* * *

 **Night had truly** settled on the island by now, and as he sat in the middle of his temporary hut, he felt comfortable in a way that he hadn't since before he became a Knight. He was a fighter, a solider through and through, but there were occasional moments that snuck up on him where he found himself enjoying the quiet, simple things that were so few and far between.

He'd been sat before his little firepit, browsing through his personal datapad that Chewie had jury-rigged a power source for before the celebration. Apparently, it had taken a few hours, but he'd been able to slap it together well enough from the spare parts they had in the freighter, the _Millennium Falcon_. He was grateful.

It was in the middle of this peaceful moment that someone hammered on the wooden door. Figures. There was always something. With a sigh, he stood and thumbed the power button as he placed it on the small log he'd been sat on. The door was banged once again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" He shouted irritably. He opened the door quickly, noticing it was raining heavily. His eyes widened in surprise – it was Rey, drenched head to toe and shaking visibly. She wasn't wearing her poncho – just the clothes that she'd had on when she'd stormed out of the celebration following a conversation between her and Skywalker. "Come in, come in! You're soaked! Here, put this on and sit down." He demanded, looking about for the cloak he'd planned on using as a pillow. He wrapped it around her quickly.

"T-thank y-you." She stuttered, teeth chattering as she visibly shook. Force, how long had she been out in it? Why hadn't she come back sooner? He'd assumed she'd gone back to her hut.

"What were you doing? How long have you been in the rain?" He asked, sitting on the log opposite her. It seemed the fire was quickly beginning to warm her.

"I went to the Dark Place." She said quietly, looking into the fire – the soft glow of the flames danced in her deep brown eyes. For the first time, Nasra noticed that her hair was loose. It was slicked back off her face and wet through, but it looked nice. It suited her much better.

"You went alone?" At her silent nod, he sighed. Waiting for her to say more. It wasn't his place to judge – he carried enough darkness to fill a Dreadnaught.

"I should have felt trapped or panicked. But I didn't. I knew it had pulled me to it for a reason earlier. It was leading me to something. I was desperate to see them – to know who my parents were. It showed me nothing." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "I thought I'd find answers here, but I was wrong. I'd never felt so alone."

She looked up, and he realised after a startling moment that there were streaks down her cheeks from tears. "You're not alone." He assured her. He wasn't used to these kinds of situations, but he knew someone in distress when he saw one. "You have Master Skywalker, and you now have the Force. Not to mention, I'm sure you have friends in the Resistance?"

She sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her left hand as she wrapped the cloak tighter about her with her right. "I have Finn, I suppose."

"There you go! I'm sure Finn can't wait to see you again! It's the people who you surround yourself with that should matter the most to you, not people who you don't know." He tried to assure her, smiling softly. He frowned and looked down his nose when he felt the whiskers of his beard tickle his nose. This thing had to go.

"How do you cope with it?" She asked quietly.

"Cope with what?" He asked, even though he knew what she was getting at. She just gestured about her absently. He sighed. "Knowing the Republic disappeared about sixty years ago helps. It means everything I did and was working towards worked out, with or without me. The… personal loss is a little tougher. I try not to think about it. I'd lost a lot even before waking up here." He shrugged, poking at the fire between them with a stick.

The two were quiet for a time, the crackling of the flames the only noise in the small hut. "Earlier, you said you'd trained students…" She asked hesitantly. He looked up to see her wide eyes and her body swallowed up by a cloak too large for her.

Damn it. He knew what was coming, and he'd be lying to himself if he hadn't already given it some thought. Was he ready for that commitment though? Stang, when was he ready for anything that had ever been thrown his way?

"I did. I was the Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. I was responsible for overseeing lightsaber instruction for the Order. At least, when my responsibilities and missions allowed me to."

"… Would you train me?" Came the eventual question.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He stood slowly and looked down at the woman before him. "What about Skywalker?" He asked. He didn't want to potentially step on any toes.

"I don't think he could go through it again, and I wouldn't want to put him through it." She responded quietly, her eyes drifting to the flames.

He held his right hand out to Rey, palm facing the domed ceiling of the hut. She looked up at him, confused. "I can't say it'll be easy. It's a hard life," he began slowly, his gaze intense. "but, if you're willing – I would have you as my Padawan."

No sooner had she stood and taken his hand eagerly, than none other than Skywalker barged in through the door. Gone was the void of emptiness in the Force. Instead, there was a presence so intense and powerful, it rivalled his own.

"Rey! I've been looking everywhere for y-" He began before pausing, taking in the scene before him. Curious eyes darted between the two. Rey was still gripping his hand, despite his release upon the intrusion. "What did I miss?" He asked.

"Master Shan has agreed to train me." She grinned happily. He thought idly that her face must be frozen like that by now, surely. Skywalker smiled slightly – was this the first time he'd seen the old man smile? It felt strange.

"I'm glad." He responded, "Rey, I'd like to join you when you leave. I think it's time I returned home." He said, looking at Nasra as he finished. He nodded approvingly.


	4. Odessen I

**The deep roar** of the engine of the YT-1300 Freighter could be heard and felt through the slightly trembling ship as it soared through the atmosphere of Ahch-To the following morning. None slept much the prior night except for Chewbacca, who incidentally was nursing _quite_ the hangover.

The ship still felt foreign to Rey, as she walked through the corridors of the ship. While Chewie accepted and told her he was more than happy to fly her where she needed to go, the ghost of Han Solo still lingered.

After the events of Starkiller Base and the hasty departure from the fleet, the ship had felt eerily quiet in the days it took to journey to Ahch-To, now though the ship echoed with the back and forth between Jedi.

"We should be heading for the Fleet!" Came Skywalkers voice from around the corner in the Main Hold. They weren't shouting, just… heatedly debating.

"We have no supplies, besides the ones we brought with us and I have no information! I'm not walking into any situation blind! Besides, I want to check on a few things." Returned Nasra.

Her Jedi Master.

The thought still made her stomach clench. Would she be a good Jedi? What did Jedi Training entail? When would the training begin? She couldn't wait and could barely hold the excitement in. Slowly, she rounded the corner of the main corridor as the familiar lurch of Hyperspace momentarily rocked the ship. They were on their way, to wherever Nasra had requested they go.

The sight of the two men brought a small smile to her face. Nasra was on his back, sprawled over the curved sofa while Skywalker was sat in the chair on the other side of the doorway.

"It's too late to argue now, we're in Hyperspace." She announced, pushing Nasra's feet off the sofa forcefully. She fixed him with a pointed stare and raised her eyebrow. He just shrugged – sometimes it made her wonder as to who was the elder one between the two of them.

"Good, we should be at Naboo soon enough." Shan nodded, standing up after a moment and rolling his shoulders.

"I still don't understand why Naboo of all places." Skywalker grumbled, running a hand over his beard. Artoo, who had been quietly sat in the corner tweeted something she couldn't quite catch which caused Skywalker to chuckle.

"It's in the Mid-Rim and will no doubt offer plenty of what I'm looking for."

"But you haven't told us what it is you're after." Rey pointed out, earning a pair of narrowed eyes in that glared in her direction playfully.

"Traitor," Her Master whispered loud enough for all to hear. She held back an amused snort. "I need to see what finances I have available. The last I heard, the Banking Clans didn't close an account unless there was an official death certificate. Now, at least from what I remember, there wasn't much that was ever 'official', so I'm hoping my account remained. If it is, I can buy some supplies that I'd like to get my hands on, such as blasters, daggers, lots of cloth and some changes of clothing."

"What do you need the cloth for?" She asked, confused.

"We need to get you looking the part of a Jedi, don't we?" Shan smirked, seeing her unabashed grin. "Besides, I don't want the Resistance to have to supply your training _if_ I decide to stick around them. Training to be a Jedi is hard work – more so if you're fighting a war at the same time."

"I can agree with that, at least. In the Rebellion I barely had time to train before I left to find Master Yoda." Skywalker nodded. "Once an organisation like the Rebellion or even the Resistance gets wind that you're training to be a Jedi, you won't get much free time to do anything."

"Back in the days of the Republic, in times of war Jedi Padawans were given military rank beneath Knights and Masters. Padawans would hold the rank of Commander while the Knights and Master's were often Generals." Nasra added. The two men had suddenly sapped the excitement out of her.

Leia knew she was going to find Luke to train her, as well as bring him back. Now that she had Nasra as a Master and she was _eventually_ bringing Skywalker to the Resistance, would they insist a military commission? She despised the First Order and wanted to fight it, but not at the expense of her training.

"Rey, stand up and come over here." Came Nasra's voice from where he'd stopped. He was stood in the robes and armour he'd been wearing since he'd awoken – his helmet in one of the crates in the Cargo Hold, the third one on the other side of the ship if she remembered rightly.

She did as she was bid and stepped before him. Gone was her grey sleeveless jacket and her three-quarter length pants. She stood before him now in one of her tunics and comfortable pants that were tucked into her boots. The arm-wraps had been removed too.

With a gesture Nasra pulled her Quarterstaff to him from across the room and handed it to her. Skywalker sat behind her oddly quiet, no doubt interested in the time-displaced Jedi's training methods. "Take this and show me your opening stance. I want you to go through some Kata's while I watch and observe."

She did as he asked, falling into the stances and poses that she'd crafted over the years. Her mind was concentrating on the task set before her, eyes closed as they had been throughout the years. Her face betrayed none of the tenseness she felt.

She continued for a time, the weight of the pole a familiar companion as she spun it around her body easily with both hands.

"Well, I've got my work cut out for me." Came the sigh from the man a decade and a few thousand years her elder. Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked, looking between the two Jedi Masters.

"A few things. Your footwork is all over the place and is the first thing we're going to need to correct. I'm impressed at your grip though – much better than that lightsaber I saw you using."

Nasra stood, walking to stand opposite her. "Okay, so do you see how if I stand like this, you could knock me over if you tried? Go on, try." She did and the Master fell gently to the deck. "And now, in a fight – a _proper_ fight, I'm dead. I can't begin to count how many Sith I beat because their footwork was sloppy."

He grunted as he stood, "But, if you nail your footwork, your centre of gravity should follow it. I'll teach you each of the Lightsaber Forms and Teras Kasi. I'll also make sure you're proficient with blasters, just in case."

She nodded slowly, and for a few hours the two went back and forth on her footwork. Towards the approach of the fourth hour, her newly minted Master called a break in the training and sat down.

"Now, I understand that I'm more of a martial Jedi than what would be normal, but I still know a lot about the Order and the Force. I can feel your excitement for starting your training, but is there anything you specifically want to know now? We'll be in Hyperspace for a day or two so this is pretty much going to be the routine." Nasra offered, taking a sip out of a canteen of something or other.

She sat down slowly, a slight sheen of sweat on her face and more than a few bruises from falling hard on the Durasteel. "How do you plan on training me?" She found herself asking, her chest rising and falling quickly as she caught her breath. She hadn't realised how winded she was, yet Nasra didn't even look like he'd broken a sweat!

"Well that entirely depends," He began slowly, resting the back of his head against the bulkhead behind him.

"On what?" She asked, confused."

"On whether or not Master Skywalker wants to teach you as well." Nasra offered, glancing over at the quiet man. Skywalker frowned.

"I don't think I could ever teach another gen-" He began, Nasra's voice cutting him off.

"I meant what I said in the Temple, Skywalker. The Jedi are all I know. One way or another, I'll make sure they return to the galaxy – though with some changes to the Code for sure. I can't do it on my own. I'll need help. I'll need a fellow Jedi Master."

Rey looked between the two men that seemed to be in a heated battle of wills as they stared at one another. Skywalker seemed annoyed and conflicted while Shan was unflinching in his conviction. "There is lore and all sorts of Holocrons in the galaxy, particularly on Ossus and Tython if they survived this long. I'd like to start a Training Temple on Tython eventually. I have a few ideas already, but I'll need help regardless. As much as the media liked to paint me as such, I can't do everything myself." Shan chuckled, laying his legs out in front of him lazily.

"You still haven't answered my question." Rey reminded him. This caused the man across from her to chuckle.

"I suppose I didn't, did I? I'll begin with endurance and strength training. Your body is too under-developed for a lot of the training. During that time, I'll begin teaching you the basics of the Force and about the Jedi. After that, I'll start adding in combat training and keep you progressing."

She blinked, admittedly not expecting him to have thought that far ahead.

"This isn't your first Padawan, is it?" Skywalker asked, casting a curious gaze upon Shan. There was something in his eyes that Rey couldn't quite put her finger on.

"It isn't, no. Though, that Padawan was almost to the end of her training when I became responsible for her. About your age, actually." He added, nodding his head in her direction. The man closed his eyes and tilted his head back again. "Her name was Kira. Kira Carsen."

"What happened to her?" She found herself asking, leaning forward. The way he said her name was strange – there was a story there, she was sure of it.

"She became a fine Jedi, and a good friend. Wasn't one for rules, though." He chuckled. "You remind me of her a lot, actually. Particularly your stubbornness. We became a team and spent most of our careers as Knights together. Even when I became a Master she was always with me."

"She sounds like quite the woman." Skywalker said softly, obviously understanding something that she wasn't. She smiled at the wistful tone Shan's voice had taken on though.

"She was." Nasra agreed and the room was quiet for a time, until a passing comment earlier in the conversation came to mind.

"Earlier, you mentioned a Code?"

Nasra groaned, "Ah, the Jedi Code. That thing." His eyes were open now and he was looking at her, a frown on his face.

"The Code is there for a reason." Skywalker argued, though that didn't help educate her in any way.

"But what _is_ it?" Rey insisted. It seemed the two men had very different opinions on this. Had it been this way for many Jedi?

"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony There is no death, there is the Force." Nasra recited. He sneered the first line, she noted with a frown. "I understand why the Code is what it is, but I exist in contradiction to the first line. If there was ever a line to change, that would be it."

"What do you mean?"

"Jedi aren't supposed to marry or have offspring." Skywalker informed her. She frowned, momentarily stupefied. "Jedi are supposed to be above such desires. Take a Jedi who's being hunted by an organisation. It's much easier to lure or bait the Jedi if they have an emotional connection to specific individuals."

"Jedi are taught to be selfless, to care for all individuals equally to be impartial and fair. But we can't do that. We're whatever species we are, and our emotions make us who we are. I saw too many Jedi fall or become corrupted because they bottled their emotions up. It's happened too many times in our history to ignore it." Nasra added, agreeing with Skywalker yet raising his own fair arguments. Rey sat there stunned, having never heard any of this before.

"The line from the Code is supposed to help a Jedi learn to control those emotions, but I do have to admit that the historical texts I'd recovered over the years did mention Jedi who fell because they or the Order at the time took it far too literal." Skywalker nodded.

"The rest of the Code is fine, it's just that one line that's always rubbed me the wrong way." Shan shrugged. "Jedi born from other Jedi were often ostracised by their peers. There were exceptions, of course. Cerean Jedi were permitted to marry and raise families, but the vast majority were not."

She was stunned. She had no idea that the life of a Jedi would sound so lonely. Perhaps Shan was right, maybe a change to the Code would be a good thing for future Jedi. Only time would tell.

* * *

 **Naboo was in** the middle of its Summer season and the sun shone on the group warmly as they descended the boarding ramp of the Falcon. The first thing that stuck out to Rey was the architecture. Everything was made from carved stone with elegant designs with metal trimmings. It was all very… artistic.

She gazed around the landing bay in awe. The Spaceport seemed to be a perfect blend of chaotic and peaceful. There seemed to be no rush, while at the same time everything was done in the most efficient way possible. It was amazing.

"If you think this is something, just wait until we step into Theed." Nasra snorted by her side. He'd wrapped himself in one of his many cloaks and held it closed around him, hiding his robes and armour – though she noted that this cloak's sleeves finished at his elbows and exposed his armoured gauntlets. Skywalker was dressed in his regular dark cloak.

"Theed? Interesting choice." Skywalker commented, casting his gaze about.

"It's the most likely to have what I need. Besides, I'd also like a chance to see if there's any First Order presence here. It'd be nice to know who wants to kill me for being a Jedi." Nasra replied, whispering the last bit. "First stop, the Bank. Chewie, Artoo I think it best if you stay with the ship. Keep the scanners on and comm us if you notice anything."

The big furball nodded and climbed back into the ship, a twooting Artoo on his heels – likely to go and play Dejarik on the holotable.

The trio made their way out of the relatively peaceful spaceport with no difficulty and proceeded on their way into the capital city of Naboo. All around them were a mixture of species, though the predominant ones were colourfully dressed humans or Gungan's. At first, she wasn't sure what to make of the creatures she observed until Luke had gladly answered a few of her questions – particularly the name of their species, having never seen their like on Jakku.

Theed itself was a wonder. It was incredibly clean and ornate and had the most amazing plants either in pots, beds or climbing the walls of buildings. Speeders flew by on their repulsors as citizens sped from one destination in their daily lives to another. It was like nothing she'd seen before!

The trio hailed a Taxi-Droid and shuffled into the Speeder, Nasra asking for the local Banking Clan Offices. The Droid nodded once, locked the doors for their own safety and sped off. The Speeder had no visible roof and so the wind whipping her hair back. Since falling into the Dark Place, she'd lost all but one of her hair ties and had resorted to wearing her hair down. She smiled at the cool feeling of the air on her skin. It was a welcome change from the dry heat of Jakku and the clammy, salty air of Ahch-To.

The Speeder arrived in no time, coming to a stop slowly. The three stepped out of the cab and Rey handed over a handful of credits that the Resistance had provided for her trip. If Nasra had no credits, they'd have to return immediately to the Fleet and rely on them. She had to admit, that being as self-reliant as she had over the years, she was leaning more in agreement with Nasra than Skywalker. There was no use in relying on the Resistance to fund her training. With the Republic gone, they likely needed every resource they could get their hands on.

The Muunilist bank was cooler than outside, though with the number of beings in it, it was no surprise for the needed drop in temperature. The room they entered was large and round, with booths lining each wall and central pillars supporting a large domed ceiling. Behind each windowed booth was a Muun talking to customers and filling out paperwork. There were a few terminals here and there for customers to browse their accounts independently, but they were all occupied with long lines.

She followed in the wake of Nasra, Skywalker by her side. They stepped into the shortest line they could find and waited. They stood for about an hour, idly chatting away between themselves but usually in silence. There was little they had to talk about when in public. Most of the conversations were either Nasra or Rey asking a question to Luke, who admitted he probably knew about as much as they when it came to current galactic affairs.

Eventually, they made it to the front of the line and she couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"How may I help you, gentle-being?" A Muun asked, the higher voice and more angular face suggesting this was a female.

"Hello, I was wondering if I could inquire about an account that may be a few thousand years old. Does your policy of official death certificates still stand?" Nasra asked quietly. The Muun looked up from her terminal sharply.

"It does. If you would like to go to one of the conference rooms just through the door on your left, I'll be with you in just a moment." The Muun directed. The trio did as was told and moments later found themselves on some _very_ comfortable chairs.

After a few more moments of silence and leathery squeaking, the Muun walked through the door and sat down, "Sorry to have kept you. My name is Li Sa-Vin and I'll be your representative with the Muunilist Banking Clan's today. So, you mentioned you have an interest in an account? Can I have the name of the account holder?"

"Nasra Shan." Shan replied, his expression guarded. Did he sense something or was he just wary? It was so hard to tell with him sometimes!

Li tapped a few commands into a datapad she held and made a few noises in the back of her throat. Rey hadn't appreciated in the foyer just how tall Muun's were, or how intimidating they could be. From what she knew, Muun's had no hair anywhere on their bodies and had very pale skin, though what set them apart from other sentient species were the tall elongated skulls and their overall height, often coming to a staggering two and a half meters.

"I've found the account, and it doesn't appear to have been frozen. However, we do have some security we need to go though to give access to such an account. We wouldn't want to enable fraud for example. I'm afraid a blood sample will be required as well. Not much, just a thumb-print on a small scanner that our database can use to compare it." Li Sa-Vin informed them, and she let go of a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"Excellent. I'm happy to do the blood sample now, if you'd like?" Nasra offered. The Muun nodded and passed a small device over the table. With no hesitation, the Jedi pressed down with his thumb on his right hand and handed it back a moment later. Li pushed it into a receptacle on the bottom of her datapad and the machine beeped its confirmation.

"Now, just a few questions. First, the reason for wanting to access your account?"

"I've been… away from the galaxy for a time." He replied cryptically. Both she and Master Skywalker kept quiet.

"I understand your desire for discretion. Second question, the security question on the account; 'The name of your next of kin?'"

"Theron."

"Excellent. Finally, I just need you to input your personal account code into this datapad just here." Li nodded, passing the datapad she was holding over. Nasra typed in a string of characters and passed it back. A beep emitted from the little machine and a small stick ejected itself from the top.

"Everything seems to be in order. This is your new Credit Stick and can be used anywhere in civilised space. Additionally, if you require a withdrawal of any type of currency we trade in, one of our terminals outside will more than suit your needs. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No thank you, that's everything I needed. Thank you for your time Li Sa-Vin." Nasra nodded. As the three of them left the room and approached a now free terminal in the foyer, Rey noticed that the ban itself was a lot quieter now. Had they been here that long?

"That seemed to go quite smoothly." Skywalker noted, watching as Nasra began checking over his account.

"It's not uncommon for someone serving a multiple life sentence to be put into stasis. The banks often don't ask too many questions. Well, everything seems to be in order and I seem to have become markedly richer." Shan shrugged, eyes widening slightly at the screen. From her position, she couldn't see the screen but assumed there was a fair bit in there.

"How much are we talking?" Skywalker asked curiously.

"It looks like they never froze the account like they should have, so I kept receiving interest. That's odd, the Muun's are known for being meticulous with their accounts. I probably have enough to buy a few sectors and then some."

Skywalker whistled quietly. "I wouldn't look a gift Nerf in the mouth in this case. We have a few hours left, might as well make a move through the list you needed to get."

"I agree. Hopefully we can be on our way in a few hours."

"How much to get her fitted?" Nasra asked, watching the face of the young man before him. The shop they were in was a standard shop that offered a range of services. In this instance he wanted some very specific things.

"Not much, two hundred maybe? Depends on what you want her fitted for." The human replied. He was dark of hair and attractive in his soft, boyish way. He wasn't a fan of how he was raking his eyes over his Apprentice though.

"I want her fitted for everything. Clothes, robes, armour, you name it." He replied. "Keep it under four hundred and we have a deal."

"I can do that. If you'd like to follow me, miss?" The man asked, walking over to a side door. As the two left, it meant Skywalker and he were left alone. It would take some time to get Rey's fittings and he intended to use their time wisely.

"Skywalker, do you mind working on getting some of the other things we need? I have a datapad with a list on it of what we want. I'll stay here and sort this." He asked, turning to look at the older man. Skywalker was looking about curiously, browsing its wares on display. He nodded and reached out for the datapad and the credit chip he'd transferred some credits to in the bank.

"Sure. I'll get it delivered to the Falcon. How long do you think you'll be?"

"I'm not sure. It might be worth just meeting us back at the ship. Thanks for this." Nasra nodded, smiling slightly. He appreciated the help, he really did. He missed the times when he could just fly to Coruscant or a large trading post and his entire team could be in and out in an hour or two.

As Skywalker nodded and left, he found himself settling down into a comfortable chair. The shop seemed to be of fair quality and remarkably clean. It also seemed as if it leaned more towards clothing than anything else, though he could spot the occasional droid or appliance for sale.

Some time passed and eventually the two came out of the side room, first a blushing Rey and secondly a smirking shopkeeper. He grunted in disgust.

"You alright?" He asked Rey quietly as he stood.

She nodded and quietly whispered, "I didn't realise you were getting me fitted for _everything_!"

He shrugged, "Armour is tightly fitted. It'll pay off in the long run. I'm sorry, I should have given you a heads up that you'd likely need to strip down to underwear."

She waved it off, "I just could've done without him staring the whole time. It's fine, really."

"I'm glad. Now, lets get you some clothes." He turned and approached the proprietor who was reading from a small datapad. Likely the measurements he'd obtained. "I want tunics, pants and boots first. Whatever else she picks out and the occasional formal dress. I also want you to create some things to her instructions as well. Can you do this?"

The man nodded and went to say something else but was cut off as he let out a startled yelp as he grabbed him by the collar and brought him nose-to-nose. "And if I hear about any gawking, lingering eyes or wandering hands, you'll lose a few limbs. Is that understood?" The man nodded, his eyes wide. "Good. And thank you for the twenty-five percent discount. You're too generous." He added, settling him down and releasing his grip. He went to open his mouth to argue, but Nasra's intense gaze and own words cut him off, "Sorry, were you about to argue for fifty? No? I thought not. That's a shame."

The man scurried off and he turned around to a grinning Rey. He grinned back, winking.

* * *

 **"Raddus Control, this** is the Millennium Falcon requesting permission to land." Rey spoke into the comm unit in the cockpit of the freighter. He was stood behind her, casting his gaze upon the various ships that made up this small fleet.

As they approached the central ship, the Raddus, it was apparent that the Fleet – and it was generous giving it that title, was just a mish-mash of various ships from Frigate to the Heavy Cruiser that appeared to be their centre of command. He grimaced, not having considered they were this poorly off.

" _Millennium Falcon, this is Raddus Control, permission granted. Proceed to the main hangar. Welcome back."_ The digitised voice replied. Chewie made a few grunts and growls and Nasra had to admit he was impressed with how smoothly the two pilots brought the ship in to land.

As the landing gear touched the plates of the hangar, he saw a small collection of various fighters and gunships around the large bay. He also spotted the gathering of beings beginning to crowd around the ship. He chuckled a little as some attempted to wave up at the canopy.

"You seem to have quite the adoring fans, Rey." He grinned, patting her on her shoulder gently. As she stood and spun out of her seat, he caught another glimpse of the robes she'd had made, and he had to give her credit, they suited her perfectly.

Gone was the light tunic, and the overall shabbiness of her clothes. In their place was a dark grey V-shaped tunic. It was held in place around her lower ribs by a wide cloth belt which left the tops of her hips bare to the world. The dark pants she'd bought were form fitting and had no issues tucking into her knee-high combat boots and her wrists were covered by some leather vambraces. Topping the whole image off was the belt that hung lazily about her hips that dangled a lightsaber proudly. She looked the part of a Jedi, and now it was up to him to train her to be worthy of such a title.

She smiled up at him as they joined Skywalker by the boarding ramp.

"I think it best if you lead the way." He greeted them, looking at Rey. "We'll be right behind you."

The young woman nodded as she took a deep breath. He noted, with no small amount of satisfaction that Skywalker was wearing his Jedi robes. Rey pressed a button on the wall and the three stood as the hissing as the pressure seals broke and the grinding of the old ship's hydraulics lowered the ramp for them.

The noise was the first thing he noticed. Cheers echoed up the ramp and through the steam of cooling jets. Rey started down first, her face cheerful. The two Jedi followed, their faces much more composed.

"Welcome back Rey!" "It's good to see you!" "Did you find Master Skywalker?" "Who are they?"

The voices were lost as each clamoured to be heard over the other. What a sight it was. He hadn't experienced anything like this since the beginning of the Alliance, when most of the missions undertaken were by himself. As their numbers grew, he was able to take a much more hands-off approach, but that hadn't been until after he'd ran his blade through Vaylin's neck.

A small group of individuals stood separate from the rest of the crowd, a healthy distance between them. Were these command staff? At the front was a woman about the same age as Skywalker in a dark dress and her silver-grey hair done up in an elaborate fashion.

Rey approached them and bowed politely, "General Organa, may I present to you Jedi Master Luke Skywalker," Rey announced loud enough for the entire crowd to hear. The cheer that echoed around the hangar was sure to leave him deaf for the rest of his thirties, surely. "And may I also present Jedi Master, Nasra Shan."

The two of them stepped forward, bowing formally. After standing back to his full height, Nasra clasped his arms behind his back and fell into a parade rest. He smiled to himself as Luke and his sister embraced.

"We're happy to have you back, Rey." Leia began as she released her brother. "And thrilled to see not one, but two Jedi among us. I'm sure we have much to discuss. If you'd like to join us in one of our War Rooms, we can discuss matters much more openly." She smiled.

The three nodded simultaneously and fell into step with the leaders of the Resistance.


	5. Odessen II

**The clinical white** of the interior of this command ship was unfamiliar to Nasra, as he took position at one side of the Conference table, Skywalker to his left and Rey to his right. The walls and floor were smooth, only sparsely broken up with the occasional grate or terminal.

The lights were equally as sterile, the bright white causing an ache to form just behind his eyes. He supposed it would disappear in time. Most irritations did, in his experience – though usually not without assistance from the business end of a lightsaber, he thought with a subtle smirk.

General Leia clearing her throat brought him out of his thoughts, "I'd like to start by formally introducing myself as General Leia Organa. Beside me is Admiral Holdo," She began, gesturing to her left where a tall, thin woman with a simple beige dress and vibrant purple hair stood, "and Admiral Ackbar." This time she motioned to her left where an aged Mon Calamari stood, his large eyes taking the three before him in with a steady gaze. "We represent the leadership of the Resistance."

"A pleasure to meet you, General Organa. My name is Nasra Shan, Jedi Master and Battlemaster to the Jedi Order. You already know these two." He responded in kind, nodding to his two recent companions.

A look passed between the two siblings and the two smiled warmly at one another. A moment later, Organa looked towards Rey and gave the young woman a warm smile. Rey smiled back.

"You have to forgive me, Master Shan – but I've never once heard of you. Were you part of Master Skywalker's Order? You look far too young to have served in the Clone Wars." Ackbar wheezed, his speech broken up slightly. Mon Calamari always struggled to speak fluent basic outside of their native homeworld – something about the air, if he remembered correctly.

"I've been… away, from the galaxy for some time. Suffice to say, I'm the oldest person in this room by a good stretch." He replied, still uncomfortable with the idea of being in stasis for the last few thousand years.

"In any case, if you truly are a Jedi Master, we welcome whatever aid you could bring. Your presence alone will boost morale to an all-time high." Holdo chimed in, smiling gently across the room as she held her hands clasped before her. It came as some surprise that he felt the Force in her. It was faint, untrained, but it was there. He felt a power equal to Luke in Leia, though again it was largely in its raw form. Interesting.

"I'm no stranger to combat and war. I was born to it and fought in a number as a General. I won't be stepping on any toes here, so don't be concerned about that. I trust in Skywalker's and more importantly, my Padawan's opinions of you. If they're happy to give their aid to the Resistance, then I am too. However, I have a few conditions." He replied, holding up a hand to halt any questions. He'd rather get this done sooner rather than later.

"If we can accommodate them, I see no issue. A single Jedi was worth thousands of Battle Droids in the Clone War." Ackbar nodded.

"First, Rey and I will only undertake missions when I deem her ready, which is what brings me to my second condition. You won't interfere with Rey's training. It takes years to train as a Jedi Knight and I won't have that time extended. I know techniques to shorten that time frame, but if you start throwing responsibilities on Rey that eats into that time, we're going to have a problem. We also need some large rooms – ideally one with plenty of space and exercise equipment."

"Before we agree to all of this, what are your thoughts, Rey?" Organa asked, a small smile on her face.

There was silence for a moment as Rey looked about the room before finally casting her eyes upon him. There was something in the look that she gave him that he couldn't quite place. It was odd, he was usually somewhat proficient at reading people.

"I found Master Shan on Ahch-To. In his own words, he's far from a standard Jedi. He offered to train me when I asked him and so far, everything he's done and said gives me no reason to doubt him. I still have questions, but yes, we can trust him. _I_ trust him." He was unusually staggered by the amount of trust in him she publicly displayed. He'd pegged her as the trusting type early on, but the gravity of just how much faith she was currently placing in him somehow made the air rush from his lungs. He hadn't felt such trust since before the fiasco with the Eternal Empire. He was honoured.

"Thank you, Rey." He said quietly, genuinely humbled. She nodded in return, a small smile on her lips.

"I trust Rey's judgement, and as the leader of this band of Rebels, I authorise access to whatever you need, and we agree to your conditions." Leia nodded as she held her hand out to the Jedi across the table, "Welcome to the Resistance, Master Jedi."

* * *

 **The first few** days aboard the Raddus were fast paced for him. Originally, he was more than happy to remain bunking on the Falcon. After all, he enjoyed Chewie's company and for all its appearance of falling apart, the Falcon truly was a fantastic ship.

The first surprise had come when a nervous looking Ensign had approached him in the hangar as he levitated several crates down the boarding ramp. There had also been a crowd, he thought with a chuckle.

" _M-Master Jedi, Sir."_ The Ensign had stumbled, nervously wringing her hands before her. She'd been a young Mirilan, no older than Rey and had her traditional tattoos on her cheeks. She was pretty enough.

He had turned to her, what he'd thought a pleasant expression on his face. Apparently, it terrified her even more. _"Yes, Ensign?"_

" _G-General L-Leia has assigned y-you some q-quarters and I'm to escort you w-when you're r-ready."_ She'd explained hurriedly, sweat visibly forming on her brow as her hands trembled and she looked nervously at the crowd who'd come to see a Jedi. They weren't even trying to be subtle.

And so, he'd left Chewie to continue unloading as his newly minted Padawan was conspicuously absent, though he'd forgive her the desire to reunite with any of her friends. He'd followed the Mirilan in silence, his hands clasped behind his back as his lightsabers had bounced gently against his thighs. All throughout the ship, he'd earned excited whispers and unabashed staring. Some of the bolder crew had approached him and shook his hand or bowed formally to him. A few had piqued his interest as Force Sensitive. Did the command staff know they had potential future Jedi among them?

The room was fairly spartan, which was to be expected when aboard a warship. Luxuries were the first things to be ripped out of any designs unless you were an Officer. The room had its own facilities with a toilet, sink and sonic shower – all pretty standard from his experience. What piqued his interest though were the two bunks and two desks. Was he to be bunking with someone? It didn't bother him, but he was curious as to who the being would be.

The Ensign had snapped a hasty salute and disappeared so quickly, he was positive he'd blinked, and she'd simply vanished.

That had been the first surprise. The second had come some hours later after he'd stowed the gear he'd bought from Naboo, which Skywalker had been helpful enough to get – it was mostly casual wear such as jackets, tunics, pants and boots – lots of hair ties too. He'd also made a point of stowing some of his robes and replacement armour pieces, just for ease of access. He made a point of keeping the Mandalorian helmet on one of the tables – if experience had taught him anything, it was to be prepared for anything. If the ship was ever boarded, the alloy was strong enough to protect his head from a few blaster bolts. The impact would hurt, sure, but he'd be able to get behind cover or beat a hasty retreat.

A few other things he'd brought into the quarters had been lightsaber parts, a few crystals and some datapads. Nothing too interesting. For the duration of the trip to and from Naboo, he'd been making some plans for Rey as he'd watched her follow his instructions. It was obvious that the single blade wasn't to her usual style and so he'd begun playing with a few ideas for a temporary Saberstaff. Initially, he'd train her to use a single blade, but time was inevitably short, and she was a number of years behind in training. She'd need something to defend herself with that she was comfortable using.

The door had opened and none other than his Padawan had walked in carrying her few meagre belongings. The two had stopped and stared at one another for a moment, not quite sure what to say. Eventually he'd just said, _"Feel free to pick a bunk."_ And hooked his thumb over his shoulder. He'd purposely left those until last, not knowing if he was bunking with an existing crew member or what.

Rey seemed more than a little surprised, though when he thought about it objectively from a logistics standpoint, it made sense. Both were recent additions to the crew and would be spending much of their time aboard in proximity. Usually on warships, crew quarters were divided by gender – at least in his experience, he had to admit he had little idea as to how society had evolved in his absence.

After a moment, she'd nodded slowly and began unpacking her things. The two had sat for a time after, asking one another questions. After the faith she'd shown in him to ask to be her Master and then going so far as to vouch for him, he was more determined than ever to repay that trust. After all, she knew he'd spent some time as a Sith, as he'd admitted as much to her on Ahch-To when she asked.

" _Can you tell me about some of your time as a Jedi?"_ She'd asked, her back against the far wall of the bottom bunk and her knees under her chin. In that moment, she looked her young age for the first time since he'd met her.

" _I can think of a few things. What do you want to know?"_ He'd asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He'd been sat in one of the chairs in the room and had put his clean boots – he'd made a point of changing his boots before setting foot on the Raddus, up on her bunk. His lightsabers lay on the table behind him.

" _Tell me about how you became the 'Hero of Tython'."_ She'd asked, confusing him for a moment.

" _How do you know about that?"_ He'd asked, brow furrowing. Had some information of him survived all this time?

" _On the chamber we found you in, there were some words on it. 'Here lies Nasra Shan, Hero of Tython, Bane of Vitiate, Eternal Emperor of Zakuul and Prisoner of the Jedi.'"_ She'd responded, voice quiet.

Prisoner of the Jedi.

It made sense, to some degree. He knew there were a number of Jedi that were unhappy with his presence in the Order even before the ill-fated mission to capture Vitiate. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that a splinter of the Jedi had kidnapped him and locked him away on some forgotten backwater planet.

Still, it stung.

" _The Hero of Tython. That's a title I've not heard in a long time. A_ long _time."_ He had thought, purposely avoiding the thought of being a prisoner of the Order, in whatever sense it had been. _"I'd been a Knight for a few months at that point and been on sever missions to various planets-"_ He began, and over the next few hours, he'd recounted nearly everything that had happened.

It had been the first time he'd ever personally recounted the tale. From rushing about Coruscant in search of the Planet Prison all the way to the showdown with Darth Angral above Tython. He'd even recounted the brief fight he'd had with Kira.

" _So, he could reach her across the galaxy?"_ She'd asked – eyes wide. She'd clung to his every word, eyes wide in equal parts awe and wonder. To him, it was just his life.

" _He'd created something called a 'Force Bond' with each of his 'Children'. He could communicate with them across vast distances. This one was perverse though and allowed him to even go so far as to control the ones he chose."_

" _Like on Ahch-To?"_ She'd whispered, voice suddenly quiet. He'd been wondering as to how to bring up the events in the hamlet again, if he were honest with himself. Since that event though, time between the two of them had been scarce and he didn't want to tarnish Skywalker's opinion of her.

" _That's what I thought I sensed. Who was that? I only felt a presence."_ He'd asked, his voice steady. _"Understand this; I'll always be honest with you. I'll not hold any information back. If I don't think you're ready for something, I'll tell you and explain why. I expect that same honesty in return."_

" _It was Kylo Ren, Ben Solo. General Organa's son."_ She replied, eyes downcast on the bed before her.

" _How do you know the boy? Force Bonds are usually very intimate things. Masters and Padawans usually share one, but there are cases of two or more closely linked Jedi sharing them."_

" _We fought on Starkiller Base, just before I left for Ahch-To. He'd just murdered Han Solo, his father. We fought in the forest and I used Master Skywalkers lightsaber."_ At this, she gently picked the hilt up from its position beside her and began turning it over. _"He'd just hurt Fin while I was knocked unconscious. I was so_ angry _with him for everything he'd done. It was my first time using it, and I had him on the floor in front of me, beaten. I wanted to kill him. I don't know why I didn't."_

He continued to stroke his beard slowly. _"Force Bonds can often be forged in stressful circumstances, but from what you've told me, nothing seems to qualify. Do you mind if I have a look at it?"_ He'd asked gently. Going into another's mind was a very sensitive subject. A being's mind was the ultimate sense of privacy and identity imaginable. While Force Sensitives could often get a sense of how another being felt through the Force through emotional projection, there was a lot of damage that could be done if not handled correctly. The Force could do terrible, _terrible_ things to a mind.

Rey had nodded, and he'd settled himself on the end of the bunk with the pillow beneath him, his legs folded beneath him. _"If you could lie down on your back and put your head in my lap, it'd make this entire thing much more comfortable for the two of us."_ He'd asked, smiling as assuredly as he could.

She acted without hesitation and once she was settled, he'd placed his hands on either side of her head and closed his eyes. If there was one experience he was grateful for, it was his time with Valkorian trapped in his head, it was that much of the dead Sith's knowledge had been passed on to him – not that he'd used much of it up until now.

" _Just breathe and try not to think of anything."_ He whispered, his eyes falling shut. He began sifting through her outer projections. It wasn't uncommon for many beings to have an initial layer of 'walls' on their minds. Things like their current emotional state, for example would often double as a barricade. Almost like a natural self-defence. In the sense of a wooden barricade stopping a Star Cruiser from blasting through it.

He was careful as he delved deeper, gently slipping between the cracks and chinks. Through this experience, he gained a deeper understanding of her recent experiences. He felt her joy, felt her loss and pain and most importantly felt the void where she felt her parents belonged. He'd noticed that his words on Ahch-To in the hut had helped a little.

Deeper and deeper he went, into the hidden recesses of her mind. There, hidden away was a dark tendril connecting her to this Kylo Ren. This would-be Sith Lord. As he followed the tendril through the Force, he realised with a start that the _boy_ , for that's all he was, didn't even possess the awareness of being probed. Interesting.

With a small frown, he followed the tendril back into Rey's mind and like a Vibrosword through a nerf steak, sliced it apart. Rey gasped in his lap and he sent calming waves of energy to her in the Force. _"Rey, I'm going to shield you from this happening again, okay? But I'm going to need to create our training bond to do it. I'll teach you how to shield your mind over the next few weeks."_ He felt her nod slowly.

With no more effort than it would take to lace a boot, he'd reached out with his mind and connected it with Rey's. Now, the two would know where the other was on the ship and be able to communicate in an admittedly limited fashion in combat. After that, it was a simple matter to extend his own powerful mental shields to his Padawan. Having to rebuild your mental shields after essentially being mind-raped by a Sith Lord was a difficult process, but over the years, he'd built them back up, brick by brick to be something truly powerful. Nobody got access to his mind without his permission, not even Valkorian managed to make a dent when he took up residence, though not for lack of trying. The closest he got was once he'd sat on the Throne, and that had been the last mistake the Sith had ever made.

When he'd brought himself out of the Force and removed his hands from Rey's temples, the two of them had sat there for a time, experimenting with the new bond that they shared. Admittedly, it was particularly one-sided as his Padawan had very little training in the Force. On the trip from Naboo to the Resistance, he'd introduced her to Meditation and gently guided her through the Force – much like how Skywalker should have done, but he hadn't said anything to the Master at the resounding success of the session. Since then, he'd often felt Rey try to replicate the same feeling on her own at night, and each time he felt it had been a success.

The third and final surprise of the day had come some hours later as Rey was off spending time with a now recovered Finn, apparently. He'd given a visible wince when Rey had described the wounds the ex-First Order soldier had taken on her behalf. He seemed the loyal sort though and hoped the young man a full recovery. He'd asked Rey to pass on his well-wishes the next time she saw him.

He'd been walking the halls of the ship when a golden plated droid approached him. He reminded him of one of his many Protocol units that he'd owned. C2, in particular.

" _Greetings, Master Shan. I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations. I've been informed by the Princess that your training rooms are ready for your personal inspection. If you would just follow me, I can lead you to them."_ Threepio had announced cheerfully.

Oh Stars, he'd thought. Not another overly enthusiastic droid. He much preferred the likes of HK-47, HK-51 and HK-55. He could appreciate their humour and programming. Whoever programmed these cheerful droids needed a blaster bolt, or several.

And so, he'd followed the droid silently through the halls. It had been a similar, if slower experience than he'd experienced with the Ensign earlier that day. Eventually, two decks down they'd come to a halt before a large double-door. Threepio had jabbed the door release and shuffled in.

The interior was large, with a mixture of endurance and weight machines and a large area for hand-to-hand training that he was sure would easily double for a duelling space. He'd move the last of the supplies from Naboo down later. It wasn't much, mostly just weighted staffs and basic melee weapons and some training probes. Nothing that couldn't be found in most Czerka stores around the galaxy. When Luke had told him where he'd gotten the supplies, he'd grinned at the thought of the money grabbing, often sketchy-trading corporation's survival. If there was one thing that could be counted on, it was that Czerka stocked pretty much anything, and if it wasn't in stock – they could get it for you. For a premium, of course.

He'd given it a cursory inspection, checking the machines were all in working order and then passed his thanks to the Princess via Threepio. The droid had trotted off merrily afterwards, mentioning something about finding Artoo.

Oh yes, he could use this space _very_ well.

And now, as he stood watching Rey try to catch her breath, he couldn't help but grin. He hadn't been lying when he said he knew of ways to condense the training down. He just hadn't told her how he planned on doing it.

"Need a minute?" He asked, leaning against the running machine. He'd opted to wear a loose-fitting short sleeved tunic and a pair of dark pants tucked into a pair of dark boots.

Rey, on the other hand was wearing some clothes he'd deemed acceptable for her training. He'd given her a vague idea of the kind of training she'd be undertaking in the shop on Naboo and trusted her to choose the clothes with that in mind. He hadn't been disappointed. She wore a pair of dark pumps on her feet and a pair of mid-thigh grey shorts and a dark tunic. Her hair was done up tightly in a single bun on the back of her head, though he noted the many strands that had come loose with a chuckle.

She was currently facing him, doubled over and gasping for air as sweat dripped onto the floor. She was absolutely soaked to the bone with sweat, and he found it hilarious.

"I've," She gasped, "been running," Another gasp, "for five hours." Her legs were trembling, and she dropped to her knees.

"And now, once you have your breath back, it's time for some strength training. In a few weeks, you'll be able to manage this no problem. Despite how under-developed your muscles are, you're in excellent shape. I'm genuinely impressed. I couldn't run like that until I was twelve." He admitted, kneeling before her. With a grimace, he caught a whiff of the sweat on her body.

"I'm convinced," She wheezed, "you're trying to kill me." She glared, swatting his arm as he offered to help her up. He chuckled as he stood.

"There'd be no fun in that. It'd be far too easy." That earned him another glare. He held his hands up in mock-surrender. "Alright, break-time is over. Get to the weights and get started. I'll spot for you. We'll finish today with some meditation." He ordered, watching as Rey picked herself up and stumbled over. Despite her accusation, not once had she complained about the tasks before her.

Spotting for his Padawan gave the Jedi time to think about how to tackle the plans he'd cooked up since leaving Ahch-To. He knew he wanted to rebuild the Jedi, but the _how_ still eluded him. Sure, he could gather several Force Sensitives, head to any random planet and start from there – but he wanted to do it right. Tython was his first choice, of course but there were also several threats he'd have to be watchful of. First, there was the possibility of the Jedi falling into their old ways, becoming complacent and far too rigid. Then there was the issue of what to do with those students that strayed and fell. How could he ensure that his vision of the Jedi would survive?

These were all thoughts he'd have to revisit later. For now, he was investing everything in Rey. He'd never had a student that was a completely blank slate before. Kira had been, well, _Kira_ and had many influences that had moulded her into the Jedi that she had become. The number of Jedi and Sith that had come to him over the years in the Alliance had already been shaped by war and their own Master's through the years, and the few Younglings in the Temples he'd visited had been far too young and infrequent to properly mould.

At one point in his life, after the events of Taral V and the Maelstrom Prison, when he'd spent much of his time on The Foundry, his teacher at the time had called him his Protégé – the font of all his accumulated knowledge. It hadn't been until several years later when most of that knowledge had been used to master both the Light and Dark parts of himself. If he were honest with himself, he was hoping that Rey could become such a student for him.

And so, as the weeks went on, so did his ruminations. The two would wake early in the ship's morning cycle and go through their morning routine. He'd found his Padawan to be a pleasant bunk-mate and luckily, she didn't snore.

After their initial wake-up routine, the two would head to the mess and grab a meal. Nasra ate a modest ration meal, while he made a point of making sure Rey's intake was high calorie and high protein.

After they'd eaten, it would be the start of their training. The second they would enter the training room; her endurance training would begin. For hours, she would do nothing but run. Each day that went past showed improvements for his Padawan. She could run further and for longer, her muscles were showing more definition and strength.

When he met her, her thin athletic form left her clothes hanging off of her. Now, she filled out the clothes she wore for training much better. Her arms were toned, as was her back and stomach. Her legs had the definition he'd seen in a hundred Jedi. All in all, he was incredibly proud of her progress.

"Stars Rey, look at you!" Came the surprised voice from behind him. He'd sensed the approaching presence but hadn't turned to greet them yet, having been spotting Rey as she lifted a bench-press. She grinned beneath him and put the handle on the rack above her.

"Finn!" So, this was Finn? He turned his head and nodded to the dark-skinned man. His eyes swept the ex-Stormtrooper in a second. He wore a brown leather jacket that was well worn, a beige tunic and brown pants with some dark boots. His eyes were wide as he looked around, especially as they settled on himself.

"Master Shan, sir." Finn greeted nervously. He bowed stiffly at the waist, in what he could only assume was supposed to be a respectful and polite bow. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"You must be Finn. My Padawan speaks highly of you. A pleasure to meet you." He smiled, offering a hand to the young man before him. He was surprised it had taken this long to meet the young man, though they always seemed to be on opposite ends of the ship. His days were taken up with training Rey and besides the time the two friends made for one another, they were rarely around one another as well.

"Thank you. The pleasure is all mine. So, you're a Jedi, huh? Can't wait to see what you can do." Finn grinned, still shaking his hand. A pointed glance at their hands and a raised eyebrow later and Finn got the message.

"Not that I don't appreciate the visit, but what are you doing here?" Rey asked, wiping her face off with a towel that had been by the bench.

"I have some downtime and I was wondering if I could watch you train? Everyone's whispering about what secret Jedi training goes on in here." The young man asked, his eyes wide as he looked about.

"I've never once locked the door. They're welcome to come and ask. If it doesn't distract Rey, I'm fine with it." He shrugged, looking to his Padawan.

"Sure," She nodded, "but there's nothing particularly exciting. It's all been endurance and weight training so far, and some meditation."

"Not today. Today I start teaching you lightsaber forms."

The two gasped, for admittedly different reasons. To Finn, a lightsaber was still a mythical weapon. Skywalker had once referred to it as, 'A far more civilised weapon' in comparison to blasters and Vibroswords. To Nasra, if it could kill and did the job, who was he to judge its merit? Rey on the other hand was a ball of energy. He could only guess as to where this new wind had come from. Had she been holding out on him in training?

"Really?" She grinned. When he nodded, she was already half way to the rack of wooden staves that he'd set up on the wall by the sparring mat.

He chuckled and gestured for Finn to make himself comfortable off to the side. The young man sat on the floor, crossed his legs and leaned against the wall.

With a gesture, he called a stave to his hand and entered the sparring circle he'd crudely marked. He spun it around his bodily slowly, testing its weight. Not terrible, not fantastic.

"Beginning today, we train until you drop. Time that would have been spent earlier in the day on the machines, we now use to train you with a blade. I will push you to your limits, I will shatter any pre-conceived notions about your ability to fight and then I'll re-forge you into someone worthy of wielding a lightsaber. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master." Rey nodded. In private, she never referred to him as 'Master', though he'd noticed that if they were ever in company, she'd adopt the more formal tone with him. It was good that she understood this without any instruction.

Over the last few weeks, if they weren't training, he was going over the theory of the Force or instructing her on the Jedi. She'd soaked it all up like a sponge. If she continued this path, he had no doubt she'd make a fantastic Jedi someday.

"Good. Now, attack me. Don't hold back." He ordered. She never hesitated – he thought, with no small amount of humour, that she'd been waiting to bash him with a stick for weeks.

She charged him, slashing her staff in a horizontal arc. The staves they used were supposed to represent single-bladed weapons. Admittedly they were weighted to mimic Vibroswords and Vibroblades rather than lightsabers, but the principle was still the same. The last thing you wanted was to get hit with one, but then if you weren't, what did you learn? Some of Nasra's most prominent lessons had been after a good number of blows from a similar weapon.

And so, he ducked the swing and slammed the staff into Rey's stomach. A bruise would form, but he'd heal it and repair any potential damage. The air left he in a second and she dropped to her knees, wheezing.

"Lesson One; don't blindly charge an opponent. A Jedi is never supposed to attack, though I'm more a believer in a good offence is a good defence. Get up."

With a grunt, Rey forced herself to her feet stood opposite him again. This time she was slower, more cautious. The two circled one another for a few moments. Rey held her blade at the ready whilst he tauntingly held his hands clasped behind his back, blade vertical in his grip.

She attacked again, but this time with strokes that were much closer to her body. There were obvious gaps, but he didn't exploit them. In fact, not once did he change the position of his hands, merely twisting and turning out of harm's way. As he expected, after a brief few moments, her attacks slowed as she expelled her energy. It was at that moment that he lashed out with a foot and sent her tumbling over.

"Lesson Two; don't over exert yourself. Pace your attacks. Gauge the stamina of your opponent, let them wear themselves out and then finish the fight. And watch your footwork. Again."

This time, he attacked. They were lazy, slow strikes that he exaggerated to get a feel for her rudimentary defences. They were sorely lacking.

Within fifteen seconds, by his count, he'd spun the staff out of her hands and up into the air. He glanced up to call it to his hand when suddenly, the air left him as something collided with his gut. The surprise and the arms wrapped around his middle prevented him from rolling out of the shoulder charge. Within half a second of colliding with the mat, his staff was out of his hand and held to his throat. He was pinned.

 _What the Kriff happened there?_

He blinked up at his attacker. There, panting down at him with that concentrated frown she often wore was Rey. Huh.

"Lesson Three; A good offence is a good defence." She said. He couldn't help himself, he laughed.

"Good, good. I'm impressed. You forgot about one thing though."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" She asked, confident in her victory.

Nasra flicked his fingers and sent her flying across the mat. The dull thump sounded like she hadn't quite been able to catch her landing. "The Force." He said, standing slowly. He nodded approvingly at his moaning Padawan. "Alright, time to learn Shii-Cho. Up you get."

* * *

 **"I'm telling you** , she's come on leaps and bounds in these last few weeks. You'd be impressed." He smiled as he walked down the corridor slowly.

"I've noticed the change in her. She's much more confident in herself. Looks healthier too. Your training is really having an effect." Organa agreed. As they walked, the crew that passed them nodded politely.

"I've noticed a change on the ship though. The allies you mentioned last week aren't working out, are they?" He asked. "Supplies getting low?"

Organa didn't say anything, but then again, he supposed she either couldn't or didn't need to.

"I may have a solution. Your fuel reserves must be getting remarkably low again. I had Artoo update some co-ordinates of a planet in the Falcon that I knew of, and well, this is my way of saying thank you." He sighed, pulling a data-disc out of one of the pouches on his belt. He handed it to the esteemed General. Despite having only interacted with her on a largely formal basis, he had quickly grown a profound respect for the petite woman – especially when he'd read up on recent history.

"Your presence on this ship is thank you enough. Morale, even before we found out about Starkiller has never been this high. I'll have Black Squadron scout the planet. Thank you." Leia smiled, holding the data-disc reverently. What the Resistance needed above all else was another base. Constantly being on the move with the Fleet was a huge drain on resources that, without the New Republic funding them, they just couldn't keep up indefinitely.

"The planet should already have the main structures you need for a base. You can use it as a foundation. The planet is called Odessen."


	6. Odessen III

**He sighed tiredly** as he stepped into his quarters and began shrugging off his jacket. While he was indeed grateful and thankful for the Resistance's continued support in the Jedi, it got to a point in meetings where half the Command Staff would end up asking himself and Skywalker a seemingly endless amount of questions. The Force was powerful, yes there was no denying that. However, it wasn't an all-powerful gift that would guarantee that missions would be successful, or that they could glimpse outcomes.

"Difficult meeting?" Came the tiredly asked question from his Padawan, already sprawled across her bunk. She hadn't even turned over from her front, he noted.

"No more than usual. Commander Orch-Ta got an earful from Skywalker though." He groaned, palming the door to the facilities. He began going through his usual routine of washing his face and hands before getting ready for sleep.

His lifestyle was often sweaty and dirty, but there was no need to carry the days filth to his bed with him.

Once his hands and face were dry, he pulled open a cabinet door next to the bunks and pulled out some of his sleepwear, just a pair of loose-fitting pants not all that different from something he would casually train in.

With a gentle hiss, the door their private bathroom closed behind him and he could finally divulge himself of his clothes. He groaned slightly as the cold air caught his bare flesh. As quickly as he could, the clothes were exchanged, and he made his way back out into his shared room.

"How are your injuries? Do you need me to help with any bruising?" He asked as he threw clothes into the laundry chute. The droids in the lower decks would see to the return of his clothes in the morning.

A muffled groan was the only answer he got.

"Alright, suit yourself." He muttered, hoisting himself up the small ladder and into his bed. Years of battlefields and warfare had trained him to fall asleep at the drop of a credit, not that after today he needed much help. He barely even felt the pillow before sleep claimed him.

" _You are the Jedi's finest. It is not enough to save you." The red skinned Sith Pureblood grunted from his position on the floor before him, his Cyan blade to his throat. The Sith had been a challenge, his greatest adversary yet, but through persistence he'd managed to find a gap in his incredibly tight defences and exploit it._

" _I'm not trying to kill you. Believe it or not, I'm here to help." He panted in return, eyeing the being before him warily. He could sense the power of the Emperor just across the chamber without even having to look in his direction._

" _You'd be surprised what I believe." The Sith returned, groaning. He'd managed to slice the Sith across the stomach, ending the fight. Still, it paid to be weary – the events on Balmorra had taught him to never turn his back to a defeated enemy._

" _Surrender, Sith. You and your master cannot stand against all of us." Came the baritone voice of Master Braga behind him. He released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. The taunts of the Sith had wormed their way into his head, causing him to doubt his fellow Jedi's survival. When he'd lost contact with Kira, he'd feared the worst._

 _As he turned his head to look at his allies, he caught sight of her and had to resist the urge to rush over to him. From the look on her face, so did she. Despite the hard-fought battles of the day, she still looked as radiant as ever with her smooth alabaster skill and fiery red hair that hung to her shoulders, a stark contrast from the dark robes she wore. Her purple Saberstaff was held ignited by her side as she threw him a playful wink. His cheeks warmed._

" _Thank the Force. He told me you were all dead." He said, turning his gaze on the Jedi Council member. Braga approached him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder._

" _Have faith, my friend – the Force is a powerful ally. The Emperor's reign ends today."_

" _Misdirected passion. Such a waste." Came the deep, booming voice of the Emperor. As one, all the Jedi turned to look at the previously passive entity before them._

 _All throughout his duel with the Emperor's servant, the creature that had once been a Sith Pureblood had been sat atop his throne, fingers steepled before its ethereal face, its dark eyes, as deep and black as a starless sky had watched events unfold with a curious gaze._

 _Despite his conviction and belief in the mission, Nasra couldn't help but feel like they'd bitten off much more than they could chew. The fear rushed through him as the Emperor's gaze fell on him._

" _My friends and I wish to speak with you. Please accompany us to Tython." Braga returned, not impolitely. The Emperor dropped down lazily from the floating throne and the Durasteel cracked around his feet. Nasra couldn't help but roll his lightsaber hilt in his palm anxiously. The chances of the Emperor willingly coming with them were infinitesimal, at best._

" _An infantile display, Tol Braga. Reckless pride limned by self-righteousness. You are master of nothing."_

 _Around him, previously sheathed blades sprang to life with a staccato of snap-hisses. The deep humming of lightsabers echoed in the Throne Room, their light reflecting off of the polished Durasteel plates._

" _You can insult us all you want, but you are coming with us." Nasra shot back, the courage in his voice but not in his gut. Every survival instinct he had was screaming at him to get as far away as possible. Throughout his life, he'd enjoyed the knowledge that he was often the most skilled fighter in any single room he entered. He had a feeling that it would amount to nothing against the being before him, who was stalking towards him like a predator about to pounce._

" _You stand there because I allow it. Because I do not fear, little Jedi."_

 _Warren Sedoru rushed past Nasra, his blade held at the ready. Before he'd even made it three steps, the Emperor waved his hand and a visceral purple storm began forming around it. Violet-white Sith lightning tore through the Jedi Master out of nowhere, dropping him in an instant as his robes smouldered, small wisps of smoke rising into the air._

 _Kira was next, crying out in pain as a bolt tore through her stomach. She dropped with a dull thud, moaning and convulsing as more and more bolts struck her. Her lightsaber lay to her side, having extinguished as she was struck. His chest clenched – he couldn't bare to see her suffer._

 _Leeha Narezz was next, the Nautolan being blasted into a support pillar so hard it cracked in two. Her large black eyes were closed. Was she dead? It was so hard to get a read on anything on this station!_

 _Braga was the last, managing to block a single bolt with his blade before falling to a strike that came from behind. He lay there, limply._

 _He was the last standing. By luck, none of the strikes had come close enough to him yet, but now he would occupy the full attention of the Sith. He didn't hesitate. With a grunt, he threw his hands out before him and pushed with everything he had. Rather than use the energy he expelled outwards to attack the Emperor though, he focused it into a barrier between him and the lightning. It was a stalling tactic, he knew but maybe he could move in closer._

 _The barrier of energy was taxing him, but he managed to make it most of the distance between himself and the Emperor, his hands outstretched to either side of him as lightning tore into the shield from all sides._

" _Interesting, but inevitably a useless gesture." The Emperor intoned, his head tilting to the side for a moment. The Emperor clenched his fist and before he knew it, his body was being assaulted by spears of lightning, completely obliterating any meagre defence he could muster. "Disappointing." Was the last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him._

He awoke with a start, his chest heaving and his eyes wildly darting this way and that. It had been years since he'd thought of that moment as vividly as he just had. His body was drenched in sweat, the sheets and his hair plastered to his skin.

He sat up slowly, conscious of his Padawan sleeping beneath him. He dropped from the bed gently, landing on his bare feet soundlessly. With a sigh, he gathered a cloak he'd left lying about and padded out of the room.

As he walked the corridors in the middle of the night cycle, it came as a comfort that all the hustle and bustle was gone. The skeleton crew that manned the night cycle was all that was needed outside of a combat situation, but it really drove home just how quiet it was.

In his journey from his quarters to one of the observation rooms, he passed perhaps two beings – both so tired and focused on their current duties that they hadn't even noticed him. Upon reaching his destination, he gently palmed the door release and stepped through.

The room was simple enough, no different from any other basic recreation room aboard a warship. There were tables and couches, not to mention the various holonet displays dotted about the room. What really drew him to the room, however, was the large Transparisteel viewport that made up the far wall. He approached the wall slowly and gazed out at the stars and the local nebula they were passing.

Space had always held a comfort for him. It was quiet, serene and so very primal. Once, just before the events on Ziost, he and his crew had stopped at a Republic refuelling station in the Mid-Rim. While there, they'd been treated to a spectacular view – the death of a nearby star. The star had of course been catalogued and given an accurate lifetime some many years before and so the station had been a safe distance away, but what a sight it had been. The entire station had gathered at the viewports to witness the giant ball of gas collapse in on itself in silence.

Now, he used space as a way of finding his centre after his dream, his heart rate still elevated. Why had he remembered that moment above all others, now after so many years? There were many terrors he'd faced and experienced over the years after that event. The destruction of Ziost, the Revanites, the Dread Masters, Zakuul and the continuation of the war against the Empire to name but a few.

He sighed and took a seat on one of the many couches as he continued with his troubled thoughts. Was there some deeper meaning to it? Was it perhaps a warning, a precursor to a vision perhaps? Or, was it just as it appeared? One of his greatest fears manifesting itself after all of these years because he hadn't ever had the courage to face it?

It was moments like these that he felt he could really use the advice of his mother.

But she was gone, just like everyone else. He hoped she'd become One with the Force in the years of his absence. As far as he was aware, she was still living on Odessen with the spirit of Darth Marr for company. It was an odd pairing, but he knew the two had always had a firm respect of one another despite their ideological differences. What had happened to Doc? TeeSeven, Lana and Theron? Vette? How had she gotten on? Had she managed to liberate any more of her people's stolen culture?

He had so many questions, and in the weeks since he'd woken up, not a single one had been answered. Any scouring on the Holonet he did accumulated to nothing. It was as if they were never there. He hadn't been surprised that no records of himself seemed available if the last sixty years' worth of events were anything to go by – likely having been purged by either Jedi or the Empire long ago.

The door opened behind him softly. He didn't need his eyes to know who it was.

"You're brooding." Rey said softly as she approached the couch he was on. She sat down softly next the him, the Synthi-Leather moulding to her form. She sat side-on to him, ignoring the view through the window as she tucked a leg beneath her.

"And you've been drooling again." He replied, his voice as monotonous as it had ever been. She swatted his arm and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her dark hair stuck up at several creative angles and her eyes were still half closed.

"Ass." She grumbled, letting out a sigh as she turned to look at the view. "It's beautiful."

"It is," He agreed. "people often forget, I feel." He shrugged, pulling his cloak around him just a little tighter.

"Is that why you came here? I could feel how distressed you are. What happened?" She asked, running a hand absently through her hair as she tried to get some modicum of control over it once again.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." He apologised, had he really been projecting that strongly? Even in his occasionally night terrors when he'd been with Kira, his shields had never once slipped so much as to disturb her sleep.

"Don't worry about it, but don't think you can avoid the question." She said, jabbing him in the arm with a finger. The Jedi part of him wanted to release everything into the Force and move on, but the Sith in him wanted to break that blasted appendage and start hacking and slashing through the ship with his blades, to test his power against this rag-tag group of rebels.

"It was just a dream." He muttered, rubbing his chin absently. Since arriving on the ship, he'd began trimming the beard right down. He hadn't returned to the clean-shaven appearance he'd kept in his youth, but the stubble was more than enough for now.

"What happened in it?" She asked, he voice quiet. No doubt she had made the logical leap and assumed it was a memory or something similar.

"Something overly unpleasant. I hadn't thought of it as vividly as that in years." He shrugged, standing slowly. "Still, if I caused you any distress, I apologise."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," He replied, his back to her. "But you're going to keep prying, aren't you?"

"I'm just trying to help." She retorted defensively.

He spun on her, his eyes flashing dangerously as never before. He felt angry and exhausted. The experiences of the last few weeks were finally catching up to him. "Well don't. You're pushing and prying at things wholly personal to me and me alone. You're an idealistic child with no real grasp on just how the galaxy can be." He sneered. He regretted the harsh words the moment they had left his mouth.

She was silent for a moment as he stood there, his chest heaving. She nodded once, stood and left the room.

Stang.

While he did consider her idealistic, it wasn't a particularly bad trait in anyone, really. In fact, he found it quite endearing in his Padawan – it was a nice contrast to his often-cynical approach to situations prior to waking up. He had to admit though, since his awakening he'd been going on faith and putting his trust in people far more than before.

He was tired, he was angry, and he was so incredibly alone, and he'd lashed out. He thought of going after her but thought better of it. Let her work through whatever it was she was feeling at his hurtful words. He'd apologise when they were both in a better mindset.

" _You're never alone when the Force is your ally."_

The ethereal voice startled him, his eyes immediately scanning for any trace of its origin. The voice had been genderless, almost a whisper on an absent wind.

"Show yourself." He demanded, clenching his fists. Was he truly alone in this room?

After a moment, a faint blue glow appeared on the couch where his Padawan had been sat. His posture immediately relaxed as he gazed upon the familiar face.

"You're supposed to be dead." He grunted, watching the robed man before him warily.

" _I am dead. I noted your aid in accomplishing that goal emphatically."_ The man replied, smirking slightly. He still appeared as he had the last time he'd truly seen him in the flesh, upon his departure from the Foundry.

"You had to be stopped." He returned, holding the spirit's gaze steadily.

" _I did. I refused to stop fighting. Events happened afterwards that only confirmed that it was really your fight, your destiny to fulfil."_

"What do you want, Revan? You've caused me enough grief over the years." He finally demanded, he finally sat down on the couch beside his ancestor. He was either too tired or didn't really care enough anymore to continue being wary of the man.

" _You're a Jedi, robbed of a life you could've had. You're a man three thousand years past anything and everything he knows, but mostly importantly you're my last living descendant. I care a great deal about you, despite previous events."_

"So, you've come to give me a pep-talk? Is that it?" He snarked back. There was a time when hearing that last sentiment would have meant the galaxy and more to him. These days, it felt somewhat hollow.

" _Of all the wonders and being you've met over the course of your life, all the tragedies and despairs, you still relate to me the most. That's why I came, despite your preferences."_ Revan replied calmly. He sounded so much calmer than he ever had in life. Ever since the Maelstrom Prison, he had always sounded harried, frantic to continue his centuries-long grudge match against the Emperor.

"I'm nothing like you." He denied sharply.

" _Oh? Were you not once the champion of the Jedi and the Republic? Did the Emperor not twist and dominate your mind until you broke free? Are you not robbed of everything you knew and forced to exist in a time that is no longer your own? Forgive me, death must have gotten me confused with someone else."_ Came Revan's sarcastic reply. Nasra glared at the apparition.

"Why are you really here?" He demanded, wrapping his cloak around him tighter as he returned his gaze to the cosmos.

" _I told you why I'm here. Once you sent your Padawan away, I felt you could use a familiar face."_

He was silent for a moment before he released a resigned sigh. "Does the memory of _it_ ever go away?"

" _No. Something like that stays with you. It took many years for me to come to terms with it – even after becoming One with the Force. Eventually though, I learned to accept the events which had shaped my life and I found true peace."_ Neither had to say in words what _it_ was, but the avoidance of naming it was appreciated.

"Wonderful. Give me a minute while I got grab my lightsaber to run myself through and become One." He grunted, earning an ethereal chuckle to his side. He turned his head to say something else after a moment and found the words dying in his throat.

He was alone again. Typical Force Ghost appearance – turn up when you least want it, disappear without so much as a hint.

Stupid, karking, kriffing Force Ghosts.

* * *

 **The next morning** was tense. Their routine remained, though Nasra himself hadn't gone back to sleep after his late-night visit through a mixture of fear for what he would see and guilt over what he'd said.

It was odd, comparing himself to the very man who had studied under the cause of his nightmare. His time as a Sith had admittedly been incredibly short in the grad scheme of things, but he'd thrown himself at it, though not willingly, with the same determination has he had his Jedi training. He had been fearless, ruthless and soaked every scrap of knowledge up that he had gotten his hands on. As such, he knew a number of techniques that many Jedi didn't. It all amounted to nothing as he stood opposite a silent Rey on the training mat, watching his Padawan silently and efficiently move through the first steps of the Shii-Cho katas.

"Good, watch your footing. Your grip is a little too low." He criticised, walking around her slowly as he studied her not too differently from the many Sith texts he'd been privy to.

For only having been recently introduced to the concept of lightsaber forms and their general combat, she was progressing at a remarkable rate. She never once made the same mistake twice and he suspected her quick grasp of the fundamentals was down to her experiences on Jakku where she had lived prior to getting swept up with the First Order and Resistance.

She looked as she had the previous day, though quite noticeably more tired. Had she not slept either? Who was he kidding, of course she hadn't – the words he'd thrown at her had struck a deep chord within his Padawan and she'd taken them to heart. He wanted to scream at himself for being so cruel. In the moment, he'd been so caught up in the moment of his raging emotions that he hadn't recognised a friend reaching out to help him.

The thought made him falter slightly as he took his next step.

Did he consider her a friend? His student, yes. His ally, most likely if push came to shove. But a friend? He'd had precious few friends in his life, and the ones he did make hadn't often survived for too long. As a child and a Padawan, he'd been ostracized from the other Padawans because of the circumstances of his birth. He was a direct contradiction of the policy of no attachments. The Jedi couldn't speak out against their Grandmaster in a time of Cold War. No, the Jedi needed to come together, to present a strong and united front against the Sith. Instead, they lashed out passively or sometimes actively against her eldest son.

Then, when his talents had been noted, he'd been shipped from one far-flung Jedi to another. Always learning, always moving. He'd built a rapport with a number of Republic soldiers, grunts mostly but he'd appreciated their straightforwardness to most situations and encounters – something he'd adopted to most of his approaches to life. Evil Sith ruling an Empire? Lightsaber through the neck. A brave enemy soldier charging him with a primed thermal detonator? Crush his neck and launch his corpse into his allies.

Thoughtful tangent aside, he supposed if he were to really think about it – "Watch that slash, you're over exposing your side." He called out. If he were to really think about it, yes, he would consider her a friend. Her and Skywalker – especially Chewie. Speaking of Skywalker, the man had surprised him in the last few weeks since coming aboard. While much of his free time was spent with Leia and helping where he could, mostly in an advisory capacity, he'd still found the time to come to the lower decks and see how Rey was doing. Once or twice the two Jedi had even meditated together, sharing their experiences and knowledge through the Force. Often, he found himself teaching Skywalker almost as much as Rey.

As he came to a slow halt before his Padawan, he watched her face intently. The same fiery passion for her training was still there, but he could see the tiredness in her face and eyes. Her arms trembled a little more than usual and her shoulders were slouched infinitesimally. Nothing that an average being would take not of, but to someone who's life had been spent in combat? She may as well have been slapping him across the face – again.

"His name was Vitiate." He announced out of the blue, causing his Padawan to halt questioningly. "Last night, when you asked what had bothered me so much. I was off-balance, and I was cruel. I'm sorry." He apologised. He held his hands behind his back casually and kept his gaze steady. For some reason, he felt like he was under parade inspection and had no idea why.

"You said what was on your mind. I understand." She replied, her face impassive as her movements started up again.

He watched her for a moment longer, raising his brow when she executed a spinning strike flawlessly. "My opinion of you couldn't be higher, trust me. I don't give my praise easily, but you've earned it. In fact, just yesterday I was praising you to General Organa."

"I don't need you praising me to others." She retorted, jaw set stubbornly. Why was she making this so blasted difficult?

"No, you don't I suppose. What you told me of your time on Jakku and since has given me a very high opinion of you, Rey. Not many would succeed or even thrive as you did, and when the galaxy threw a hydrospanner at you, you adapted and thrived." He said earnestly, turning his back to her after a moment. After a few quite seconds he heard her movements slow and finally stop. "Do you know what it's like to not be in control of your own actions? Your own thoughts?" He asked.

"I only know what I experienced with Kylo, on Starkiller." She replied quietly. Idly, he thought that if she were to suddenly attack him, he would likely lose the encounter. He had no weapons, no armour and for the first time in years, his defences were down, completely and utterly.

"I told you about my mission to capture the Emperor and how I ended up a Sith. What I maybe didn't emphasise - or perhaps I didn't mention it I can't remember, was how he destroyed my mind in the wave of a hand. Suddenly, his thoughts were my thoughts. His Will was my Will. If he wanted a Jedi snuffed out, I was the hand that did it. He'd gained the perfect weapon in me – the Jedi's own 'Hero of Tython' so completely and utterly his in every sense of the word."

He sucked in a shuddering breath as the memories returned. "I was his for a little over a year. In that time, I was studying directly beneath him. No Sith in his Empire had ever dreamed of such an opportunity and besides a small handful of individuals, nobodies word held greater weight than my own. But it wasn't really my word. The Emperor was in my head, moving freely about for all that time. When I finally broke free, I was never the same. I was off-balance for years – I still am, to be honest."

"I-" Rey began, but he spun his body to face her before she could continue.

"I envy your idealism, Rey. For all my words last night, I truly do. I lost it when he plundered my mind. Never lose it - never!"

At a loss for words, the young Rey nodded silently. He wasn't sure if it was the lighting of the room, but he thought he could just make out the faintest glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. After a moment, he realised why.

Despite the training bond between the two of them, he'd always kept his mental shields firmly in place – protecting which one of them, he wasn't even sure. He hadn't realised he'd lowered them, or perhaps he had let her in – he'd never know. Either way, at some point while he was speaking, she must have seen or felt a glimpse of the pain he carried. Carefully, so as not to stun her across their link and leave her with a headache, he slowly put his shields back in place.

It took her three steps to close the distance between the two of them, and truth be told, he was expecting a slap or a punch or something. He wasn't expecting the crushing embrace she now held him in, his arms dangling limply at his sides. She wept openly into his dark tunic and he could feel the salty liquid seeping through the fabric and onto his skin. He awkwardly placed his arms around her and tried to give reassuring pats and rubs to her back. Was he doing it right?

"H-how do y-you cope?" She heaved, her legs giving out beneath her. He realised with a start that perhaps what she'd glimpsed or experienced had been too much. All the pain and horror he'd suffered through had left him admittedly jaded but to someone as fresh to the galaxy at large as Rey, it must have been absolutely devastating. He cursed himself for his carelessness.

"I have to cope. Shh, it's alright." He soothed, gently lowering himself to the mat with her. He'd lost the ability to properly weep after the loss of his wife – he usually just fell into melancholy or rage. One day, maybe it would return – perhaps not.

She continued heaving into his tunic, the fabric turning noticeably darker as time went on. After a short time, he pulled her into his lap as he would a child, her grip on him never faltering. At any other time, he was sure Rey would have beaten him senseless for doing such a thing, training be damned. Now though, it seemed she needed to have some form of contact with someone. If Finn were here, or perhaps even the Fighter-Jockey Poe he'd heard about on occasion from Rey, he'd let them comfort her. As it was, he was a victim of circumstance that neither were around. Despite that, it was his fault for letting his shields fall and his fault for causing her this pain. Stars, it was _his_ pain she was feeling!

They stayed like that for a time and neither said a word more.

* * *

 **"Master Shan, General** Organa would like a word with you." An Ensign announced, walking into the training room. It had been two days since his apology to Rey and her training had continued unaffected. If anything, she seemed to be improving even more impressively when they sparred – anticipating his attacks and probing his defences far more thoroughly.

As it was, the two were in the middle of a mock-duel when the Twi'lek walked in. He hadn't even given any consideration that they may be in the middle of a conversation or anything – he'd just walked in and made his announcement. He would've commented on the rudeness if he hadn't been bodily tossing Rey onto the mat, her training staff rolling out of her hand.

"Very well. Give me a moment." He grunted, standing. He was in some loose-fitting training clothes that allowed a full range of movement – Rey was dressed in a similar fashion, though hers were much more form fitting. She groaned from her position on her back on the mat – perhaps he'd taken her down a little too hard. Oh well, lessons learned and all that.

The Ensign nodded and briskly left the room. As he turned from his Padawan, he began gathering up his clothes – just his tunic and boots and began putting them back on. "I'd like you to join me this time." He announced, struggling momentarily with the left boot. "Might help to teach you how to deal with figures of importance a little more."

"I hardly think my training clothes are appropriate for the bridge." His Padawan replied, rolling her eyes. He cast his eyes over her and had to agree.

"Don't worry about that, I'm going to get changed and I expect you to as well. I think we both need a shower before stepping into proximity of anyone else." He admitted, grimacing when he caught a whiff of himself.

The two hurried out of the room and rushed back to their shared quarters. They took turns in the sonic shower – the efficiency of the technology meaning neither had to dry their hair, less it drip all over the ship. All in all, the two were washed and changed within fifteen minutes and both were dressed in their Jedi robes.

Walking through the corridors of the ship side by side, hilts hanging from their hips and in their robes always garnered whispers and looks. Often, the looks were of unabashed awe and wonder – Skywalker mentioning the Jedi being deified didn't seem to have been too far off the mark. Sometimes though, and this had been extremely rare so far in their stay, but occasionally there would be a look of terror as they passed. Organa, Skywalker and Ackbar had all informed him of the many years of anti-Jedi propaganda that the galaxy had been subjected to. He was only surprised there weren't more similar looks.

"General." Nasra announced, smiling faintly as he took in the appearance of the leader of the Resistance. Her hair was done up in an elaborate bun at the back of her head and she wore a dark dress that appeared quite thick – no doubt she was feeling the cold of space travel, despite the ships heating systems.

"Nasra, I'm glad you came." She smiled openly at the two, "And young Rey as well, I see. The Jedi training suits you." His Padawan blushed lightly and grinned at the older woman.

"The Ensign could have been politer, I'll admit. What can I do for you, General?" He asked, folding his hands behind his back. His eyes darted around the room – they were in Hyperspace, that much was obvious from the swirling blues, whites and blacks through the viewport. All around him seemed to be filled with an anxious energy that was almost palpable to the Jedi.

"I thought you should be here, for when we arrive at our new home." Leia admitted, gesturing for the two to join her at the viewport. Ah, Odessen. He hadn't realised that the reconnaissance flight had returned yet. "Commander Dameron reported no signs of any civilisation on the surface, so it appears as if we'll have a base for a time. You don't know how much this means to us."

"Probably the same it meant to me when I found the planet." He replied, nodding his head.

"What planet is it?" His Padawan asked from his left, the swirls of hyperspace making her brown eyes sparkle ever so slightly.

"Odessen. It was my home while I led an Alliance against the Empire of Zakuul. It'll be good to see it again." He replied, his voice ever so slightly wistful. He'd been curious as to what had happened to his base and Alliance. Perhaps he'd be able to scour some of the databanks and see if anything had been left behind.

"I'd like you to head down with the first of the transports. You know the planet better than anyone here and we'll be landing the ships as close to the location you provided as we can get." Leia requested. His head turned to her slowly as he thought it over. It was a logical request – he'd warned her that the wildlife on Odessen could be dangerous and if he knew Lana and Theron, the base was likely rigged with a multitude of traps.

"Very well. I'll need a Demolitions team and a few troops. The more blasters, the better." He nodded, agreeing to the request. "If you'll excuse me, my Padawan and I need to prepare. How long until we arrive?"

Just as he finished speaking, the ship shuddered and dropped out of hyperspace. Before them, sat in the void of space was Odessen. The green and blue jewel looked as it always had, illuminated by its single sun. He was home.

He turned quickly, having received his answer silently and hurried out of the bridge. It wouldn't take the Resistance long to prepare the first of the transports, likely having been refuelled and prepared in-transit. Distantly, he could hear his Padawan's confused questions as he began walking away from the direction of the primary hangar.

"We're not getting on the transport just yet. Odessen is a dangerous planet for the unwary. I'm more than able to take care of myself. You, however, are not yet ready." Came his answer, his voice distant even to his ears. In his mind, he was already picturing the familiar base, possible trap locations, choke points, possible nesting sites of the fauna.

"I can look after myself just fine, thank you." Came the indignant sniff from his Padawan. In any other moment, he might have even labelled her tone as 'lightly prissy', he thought with an amused snort.

"Not with what weapons you have, you can't." He replied, slapping his hand against the external door release for their room. Within two strides he was at one of the storage compartments by his bunk and sifting through it. As his hand clasped around it, the compartment high enough that he couldn't quite see inside, he nodded more to himself than anything as he pulled it out. A startled gasp left Rey.

"Is that-" She asked, eyeing the long cylindrical hilt in his palm.

"It is. I have a large collection of various lightsabers I've gathered over the years. Some are foes, some belonged to allies and some I made myself. During our stay here, I've been working on a temporary weapon for you to use comfortably to defend yourself. Something familiar. It's set to a low intensity, so you won't hurt yourself – just get a nasty shock. It'll be enough to defend yourself with until I'm able to help you." He answered, activating the golden blades of the staff, showing her the activation studs as he did so.

"It's beautiful, thank you." She breathed as he handed the hilt over to her. He nodded in response before he strode out the room – though not before snatching his helm from its place on his desk, his startled Padawan behind him, hilt in hand.

By the time they made it to the hangar, their team was prepped and ready to go – the engines of the shuttle humming to life.

"We have the Jedi with us boys!" Came a deep bellow from a trooper by the boarding hatch. A resounding cheer went up among its occupants.

"Command never mentioned the Jedi!"

"Oh, this'll be a blue milk run!"

"Pay up Styrik, you owe me fifty credits!"

They boarded the transport without delay, the cheers of the troopers around them bringing a small nostalgic smile to his otherwise impassive face as they sped off into space towards the planet. Up until now, he hadn't put his helmet on since awakening and for the first time since he first donned it, he hesitated and he wasn't sure why.

Dismissing the notion with a quiet grunt, he pulled it down over his head and felt the electronics begin to whir to life. As his visor went through its electronic start-up sequence, he reached back and pulled the hood of his armoured tunic up and around the helm.

A small alert popped up on the holographic interface, alerting him to the helmet's reactivation. With a quick double blink, he closed the alert and viewed the interior of the shuttle through his visor. The visor didn't tinge his vision in any particular colour like he'd seen some models do, which was a bonus in his mind and something that baffled his tactical mind. How many times had friendly fire happened because a visor had changed the colour of some armour?

While his helm was Mandalorian in origin, the interface was all in Aurebesh – not that he couldn't read Mandalorian, but it was just easier this way. Many of his allies in the past had often held the incorrect notion that the thin horizontal visor limited his vision to that one slit. In fact, the helmet had been built and designed with that exact intent, to deceive one's enemies. Small cameras were built into the 'visor' of the helmet that captured his surroundings and projected them on the inside, so in reality it was as if he wasn't wearing a helmet at all – he just got the bonus of its defence and technical combat readouts. If he were wearing a full suit of Mandalorian armour, the helmet would seal itself and link up electronically with the rest of his armour. Alas, he only had the combat robes he wore.

Around him, Resistance troopers mingled with one another, talking animatedly about the upcoming mission and the presence of the two Jedi with them. He turned his gaze upon his Padawan who was sat done on one of the benches lining the transport. In comparison, he was stood over her, his right hand holding one of the many hand-rails bolted into the ceiling.

"Nervous?" Came his electronically filtered voice, startling the girl and a few troopers around him.

"Should I be?" She replied, still running her hands idly over the hilt. She looked at the helmet he wore curiously, her head tilting to the left slightly. His helmet readout informed him of a slight heartbeat elevation. "Somehow that helmet it even more intimidating now."

"It has its uses." He shrugged, turning his head to gaze at a Sergeant that had called for a final weapons and equipment check before entering atmosphere, where the ship would no doubt be bucking from the intense heat and pressure it would endure.

Once all the troopers had called out that everything was as it should be, the Sergeant looked over to him. "Master Jedi, anything we should know? You have operational command of this mission."

Suddenly, it was as if he was back in one of a hundred troop transports back in the wars he'd fought, preparing to hot-drop onto the front lines. For the purposes of this mission, these were _his_ men and he'd make damn sure they made it through whatever dangers were ahead. "Odessen is a dangerous planet. The local wildlife will be our biggest concern. Watch out for Jurgorans, Makrin's and Sleens. Odessen has its own alpha-predator called 'Shade Stalkers' – their bodies are covered in thick dark scales and can hide themselves in the Force, so I won't be able to sense them. They're pack hunters and ambushers, so keep your eyes peeled. Lastly, we'll be entering an old Eternal Alliance base, so Demo team, I want you to be on alert for any traps we come across. Any questions?"

One Duro raised his hand cautiously, "Anything that can shoot back?"

"The occasional still functioning security droid, perhaps. Nothing we shouldn't be able to handle. Stay behind me, keep your heads on a swivel and we should be done before you know it."

The troopers gave out a little 'Oo-rah!' simultaneously as the ship finally hit atmo. From the viewports around the small teardrop shaped transport, he could see the atmospheric shield kick in and the flames building up around them.

"This must be familiar to you, at least." Rey's quiet comment almost went unheard against the noise of atmospheric entry and the troopers preparing themselves.

"What's that?" He asked, his body rocking side to side as they hit some mild turbulence.

"Leading troops. You seemed in your element." For being so young and new to the galaxy at large, he couldn't help but still be surprised at how astute his Padawan could be at times.

"I feel like I've spent half my life in these types of transports. Usually a lot more armour plating on the hull, I'll admit."

"Well, lets hope that you get to live as much of your life out of them as possible." She smiled at him as she stood on shaky legs. The ship gave one final heave side-to-side before they finished slicing through atmosphere, settling into a steady dive as they made their final approach to a clearing half a klick from his old base.

The transport touched down on the planet gently, though not without speed. The purpose of their landing was to get onto the planet as quickly and efficiently as possible before beginning aerial sweeps of their surroundings. The idea was that the ships sensors might be able to help them avoid any of the larger predators in their short approach to the base – if they hadn't been scared off by the ship landing.

Nasra was out first, only one of his blades activated. It was a habit that had begun in the war – he would often be the first off the transports, twirling his blades around his body to deflect as much enemy fire as he could. On occasion he would miss the odd stray bolt or react a little too slowly and a trooper behind him would get caught. This time, there was no enemy fire and as far as he could sense, no predators around them. Still, it paid to be cautious.

The climate of the planet was agreeable. It was a fair temperature and the sun was high in the clear blue sky. Visibility was as good as it would get. Around him, troopers hurried out of the transport. First came the troops that would act as their perimeter, fanning out in a large semi-circle and dropping to a knee, their guns panning left to right slowly as they searched for threats. Second came the Demo-team, large backpacks and thick armour that was designed to protect them from explosives – they also carried large heavy repeaters that would have made his father proud. Finally came the last of the troopers that unloaded a few large crates. Once the final troopers were off, the hatch closed, and the ship began to rise from the clearing.

"Get that comm-relay set up double time and we can get moving. I want a line to the Raddus at all times." The Sergeant ordered. After Rey's comment, the Iridonian had approached him and informed him of his name and if he'd like to act as his second for the mission. Nasra had agreed with the now Sergeant Uhtohn as he knew his own men and operating procedure better than he ever would.

"Rey, if you sense anything off, anything at all – you let me know immediately. Is that understood?" He ordered, watching the treeline carefully. He'd had one too many run-ins with Shade Stalkers and understood them to be largely fearless in who and what they hunted.

"Yes Master." She nodded, her own gaze mimicking his own.

"Comms up! We have a secure line to the Raddus!" A Corporal shouted, watching as the machine drilled itself into the tightly packed soil beneath it and half a dozen antennae rose into the air.

"Raddus, this is ground team, do you read?" Uhtohn asked, holding a finger to the headset he wore.

Uhtohn, in his wisdom had passed on to comm-frequency that had would be using for the mission. He had admittedly, completely forgotten about it, so caught up he'd been in the memories of the planet they now stood on.

" _Ground team, this is Raddus Control. We read you, over."_ Came the static laced reply in his ear. Hopefully, some of the machinery of the base was still active and they could use that to boost their signal through the thick atmosphere.

"Alright team remember what I said on the transport. Keep it tight and stay alert – lets move!" He called out, moving at a brisk pace towards the mountain beyond the treeline.

The mountain had been picked specifically by the Eternal Alliance as a base of operations. It was the tallest of the local mountain ranges, which by extension were the tallest on the planet. It's towering height over the surrounding hills and woodland allowed them ample warning from any approaching land-based threat. It also meant that the Alliance could retreat further into the mountain and out the other side if they ever needed to retreat. A planetary shield had also been installed prior to the war he waged with Zakuul to protect against orbital bombardment – something he remembered the Voss suffered from greatly.

They made it to the base of the mountain easily enough, and if his memory served him correctly, a large entrance capable of permitting tanks entry to one of the many bay's they'd excavated should be nearby. To his confusion though, he couldn't see it.

His eyes roamed the mounds of rubble and the sharp, angular edges of the brow-grey stone. Realisation struck him as hard as a freighter. "There's an entrance here. Stand back, a rockslide covered it." He ordered as he turned his head to his Padawan. "Help me move the debris. Reach out and concentrate on the task at hand. I'll be there to help you." He instructed in a much quieter voice.

Rey took a few deep breathes beside him, nodding her head as she attempted to focus her mind as she had done before. The Force came so naturally to her, Nasra was often left in stunned awe as she accomplished feats and grasped techniques it took many years to learn. "Lifting rocks." She breathed, grinning to herself despite the serious situation. Slowly she reached out a hand before her and closed her eyes. Within moments, each of the boulders and the debris from whatever rockslide had happened, were rising up and floating steadily in the air, spinning lazily in their levitation.

Startled gasps and quiet moans of admiration echoed around him as the members of the Resistance looked on. He hadn't needed to so much as lift a finger – his Padawan had done it all on her own. With a dismissive gesture of her hand as she opened her eyes, the rocks were flung far to either side of the team. Her eyes were wide, and her white teeth were set into a proud grin. He nodded and clasped her shoulder gently. "Well done."

The door was huge, set perfectly into the rock. The metal that he remembered being pristine and only a few years old now looked old and was far beyond salvageable. Vegetation had grown up and along it, though much of it had been torn off as the vegetation had also grown on the rubble.

A tech, a young private rushed to the external door control and slid a pack off of his back and dropped to his knees. Within seconds he had a handful of wires and a datapad in his hands and began prying the panel off. At least, he tried to. It appeared as if the panel was stuck fast. He gave silent shake of his head and gathered his things. Nasra stepped forth and snapped his blade to life as he plunged it into the Durasteel.

The Durasteel was thick, and despite the lightsaber plunging to the hilt instantly, it still took time to cut through the metal alloy. Slowly, he moved his blade around him, cutting a hole large enough for everyone, especially the Demo Team to fit through comfortably. By the time he was finished, he'd cut a hole three times his width and a full arm-length taller than himself. Silently, he sheathed his blade and used the Force to pull the cut metal out of the hole and laid it gently to the side of the doorway.

Slowly, the team entered the dark entrance, whatever sunlight the sky offered meant nothing now. The two Jedi stepped forward, igniting their blades simultaneously as the trooper's flashlights on their weapons and helmets activated. They found themselves in a large bay, full of discarded crates, tools and the occasional Walker or Tank that had been abandoned. Odd, Alliance and by extension Republic protocol dictated full recovery of asset in a planned evacuation. Had the Alliance abandoned Odessen under duress?

The team fanned out slowly, shining light on every possible surface and into every conceivable crack and hiding place. He had to give it to them, for being a barely organised gang of rebels, these troops were conducting themselves just as well as any number of Republic squads' he'd worked with before.

When the all clear was called, Nasra began walking to the far door knowing it led to an elevator which would taken them higher into the mountain base. It was used to ferry mechanics up and down from the barracks. The mountain was no place for Walker or Tank combat, though another large door existed just to the right of his chosen destination for shuttling the heavy ordinance to some large plateau's further up that they'd converted to landing pads.

The team followed him silently, their weapons still at the ready as he pressed a button. Through all the muck and grime that had accumulated of the last few thousand years, he saw the electronic display for the elevator light up and the whir of the machine descending was picked up by his helmet's auditory sensors.

The elevator arrived with a dull, echoing thud and more than a few metallic screeches. The troopers around him eyed the platform warily, knowing full well how high they would likely be travelling on that thing. He snorted silently behind his helmet as he stepped on it, turning to watch the conflicted faces of the team – even Rey, who had regaled him on occasion of some of her more daring escapades on Jakku looked a little apprehensive.

Eventually, they all hurried on the platform and with a quick press of a few buttons mounted on a nearby attached console, they began ascending through the stone fortress. As they rose, a few troopers idly shifted from one foot to another and he found Rey idly fingering the hilt of her saberstaff. He'd noticed her doing that quite a bit, likely finding her Jedi training and destiny much more real than ever before.

After some time, the elevator ground to a halt and the door opened. A trooper stepped out first, his rifle raised and panning left to right for threats in the darkness. Nasra hadn't caught the initial location that they came from, but the trooper was suddenly caught in a hail of red laser bolts. Luckily, the trooper – a dark skinned human and been aware enough to dive to cover behind some nearby crates as everyone ducked back into the elevator for cover. The pained moans let Nasra know the trooper was alive – injured, but alive. "Rey, stay here." He shouted over the roar of blaster fire. It hadn't let up.

He leapt into the doorway, his lightsaber activated and spinning effortlessly around his body as he deflected the bolts harmlessly into the stone floor and walls. The cyan hue of his blade lit up the corridor he stood in, casting its cold glow all around him. His blade was an excellent defence for the men behind him, allowing them to filter out into the hall and return fire to the darkened sections as he advanced.

There were recesses along the entire corridor, having been built to repel an invading army. As he advanced and approached the first source of blaster bolts, he noted that they were being fired on by defensive turrets. The turrets would have been top of the line in his day, though he didn't remember approving their installation. As he sliced through it cleanly, he threw his upper body backwards and bent at the waist as he avoided a three-round burst. Snapping his body upright once more, he leapt at the source of the next series of bolts, leaping meters down the corridor in a single bound. The turrets, while advanced in the Old Republic had been left on their own for thousands of years without maintenance. They were slow, rigid in their movements and their aim was off by a parsec. Still, enough of the red bolts of energy filled the corridor enough to present a genuine danger.

He continued on like this for a few more moments, leaping and slashing at each turret in the long corridor. Each time he beheaded a new turret, the amount of hostile fire was reduced drastically. After the seventh turret was destroyed, the corridor fell into a tense silence. He couldn't sense any immediate danger, but he'd missed threats before. He hadn't even felt a hint of the attack that had injured one of his men. He turned on his heel and jogged back to his men who were either crowding around their injured comrade or had taken up covering positions and were watching the way he had come.

"How is he?" He asked, the electronic voice of his helmet echoing in the long room.

"He got caught in the shoulder and thigh. His armour caught most of it, but he's got some burns." The resident medic replied – a Mirilan woman, likely two or three decades older than the young ensign he'd experienced upon his arrival.

"Can he walk?" Uhtohn asked, standing to Nasra's right – he noticed Rey watching the corridor with some of their men, though she'd occasionally throw concerned glances in their direction.

A pained moan was his reply as the medic applied some pressure to the thigh wound. "There's your answer, Sarge."

"Okay, we can't leave him here. Duurik, head back to the clearing with him and get him on the transport. We'll carry on through the base and get it cleared as quickly as we can. Understood?" Uhtohn ordered, helping the injured trooper up and placing his arms around an Aqualish Demo trooper. The dark skinned being nodded, its four glossy black eyes reflecting the light from their torches.

"Okay, lets move people. No more injuries." He ordered, watching as Uhtohn fell into step behind him, his marksman rifle raised and scanning for targets. "There's a series of doors at the end of this corridor. The one we're taking leads to the Rec-rooms. After that, it's an elevator to the exterior of the base and a final one down to the Command Center."

The journey to the Rec-room was quiet and tense. He'd ordered Rey to take up position in the centre of their formation with the Demo Team. As soon as this mission was over, he would begin introducing blaster deflection into her training regimen now she had a saber to train with, though he'd likely have to bastardise a few lightsabers to provide her with a single hilt to master first.

As soon as they entered the Rec-room, all Hell broke loose. Blaster bolts came from every direction and the squad scrabbled to cover. Shouted orders and commands were given to return fire. Luckily, nobody had been hit. While his men and Padawan had scrambled for cover, he had stood in the middle of the room, his cyan blade twirling around his body. The amount of blaster fire was intense, and so he summoned his second cyan blade to his off-hand, spinning them around one another and doing his best to provide as much cover as he could to his allies.

After a few moments, a return volley of blue bolts flew in the direction of the enemy fire's origins. The blue glow of the bolts would momentarily light up the turret emplacements as they hit. One or two turrets immediately went offline, either exploding in a shower of sparks and shrapnel or simply teetering out of commission. The skirmish seemed to be going remarkably well for a few moments until the dull thud-thud of marching feet began to reach his ears.

The marching was far too uniform and synchronised to be any organic being, which only left a single possibility. _Battledroids._ Droids from the war were built for the sole express purpose of expendable infantry – however, he'd seen more than a handful of trained Jedi and Sith fall to the machines.

A far door screeched open as it retracted on its hinges and a whole new barrage of blaster fire was sent their way. "Ion grenades, now!" A trooper yelled over the racket. As Nasra blocked a number of bolts, he caught sight of a trio of small spherical objects sailing over his head, bounce twice and roll between the droid's feet.

They exploded with an electronic buzz and sparks from overloaded electronics flew through the ranks of their attackers. Some droids simply collapsed rigidly, others literally fell to pieces while many more simply shut down. The hail of fire was far more manageable now, and so he leapt into their ranks, spinning wildly as he kept his profile as low as possible. He bisected four droids upon landing and continued to remove artificial limbs and heads ruthlessly. By the time the room was silent again, he must have carved through three dozen droids. Three dozen battledroids was nothing to sneer at. If they had been in good condition and not in the tight confines of the Rec-room, even he would have thought twice about engaging them. As it was, a healthy percentage of their numbers had been de-activated in some fashion by the Ion grenades and they were in poor condition.

"We keep moving!" He shouted over his shoulder, hearing the hurried boots of his men and Padawan following in his wake. Before making it to the elevator they were aiming for, they encountered three more instances of the battledroids. They were dealt with in a similar fashion than in the Rec-room, the tight confines of the corridors they were in giving Nasra the advantage.

Eventually they made their way up the elevator and out into the sunlight once more. "Overwatch, we're on the exterior of the base by some anti-air emplacements. Do you see us? Over." Nasra called into his built-in comm unit.

" _We see you, ground team. AA is inactive, I repeat AA is inactive. We have injured on board and we're heading back to the Raddus to offload. We'll be back for you in thirty. Over."_ The pilot replied.

"Copy that. See you in thirty." He responded. He looked about the platform they were on, remembering the faces of his personnel going about their daily duties. Immediately opposite him was one of two AA-battery bubbles, which were individually shielded to provide the gun crews a little more protection in the event of a bombing run taking out the base's main shields. In theory it would allow the crew a little more time to continue firing or even the ability to fall back into the base between runs.

Besides the two bubbles and inactive canons, the outer walkways were empty. They hurried along the metal grating as quickly and carefully as they could, Nasra palming the door release to the Command Centre elevator. The elevator seemed to be there already, and the doors scraped open, allowing them all to shuffle inside.

A few moments later, the doors to the Command Centre opened and he was genuinely surprised to see the base's systems still running. He hoped whoever had installed the base generators had gotten a promotion at some point. In truth, he had thought that whatever droids and turrets they'd encountered had been running off of local power grids and were re-activated by their entry into the base, or perhaps even motion sensors they'd inadvertently tripped.

All around him, machines flickered to life through the years of dust and debris from the stone cavern. Even the holotable, as cracked and dented from large chunks of falling stone still worked. A trooper behind him let out a quiet, "Woah."

"All this time and it still works. Check the systems, make sure nothing is going to blow us to Coruscant." Nasra ordered, deactivating his remaining blade and hooking it to his belt. Rey approached him slowly, her eyes wandering the cavern.

"It's everything we'll need." She marvelled, eyes wide. She approached the holotable carefully and gently placed her hands upon its surface, wiping away years of dust and grime.

" _This is the f-final entry of the Eternal Alliance."_ Came the stuttered recording above the table, causing his Padawan to leap back, hands raised. _"T-the Alliance is-"_ The recording cut out, the damage and the likely corrupted systems from the few thousand years finally taking its toll.

As the troopers secured the room and the two tech's that had accompanied them set to work, he found himself wandering the room, watching as the ghosts of his past hurried around him. "Base is secure! We have full control!" A tech announced loudly, and the room went up in a cheer, the voices of the troopers bouncing off of the stone walls and high ceiling. He smiled behind his helmet to himself – it had felt good to be leading troops again and getting into the thick of it, even it was against a few thousand-year-old droids and turrets. Quietly, he slipped out of the room and began walking down a flight of metal stairs.

He wound his way down for perhaps a hundred meters back into the depths of the mountain. He could have used the elevator, but he wanted to slip away quietly and avoid any escort the Sergeant may suggest. Besides, he could sense Rey not far behind him trying to be subtle. As he came to the bottom of the stairs, he found himself in the familiar hangar bay where he'd often set off for missions from. He even remembered arrest Saresh in here after she'd tried to have him killed.

The large hangar-bay door was wide open, with small vines hanging from the ceiling limply. His breath caught in his throat – had she survived? After all this time? He took off at a run, darting across the open hangar where he'd caught a glimpse of what remained of the red hull.

There, on her own private grassy plateau sat his Corellian Defender-Class Light Corvette. The years hadn't been kind to her, vegetation had grown up and around her landing gear and hull and in some places right through it if what he saw was right. One of the dual-laser canons hung limply from their mountings and the sensor dish appeared completely destroyed. It was still his ship though. He spun on his heel and rushed to the elevator that would deliver him to the plateau – a confused Rey staring at him, confused as to the source of the sudden giddy burst of energy. He hurriedly beckoned her to join him in the elevator and together they dropped the extra fifty meters below.

He darted out of the capsule and raced across the rickety Durasteel bridge and grinned behind his helmet as he ran his fingertips along the hull. "What a piece of junk!" He heard Rey gasp. He spun on her, a finger raised in warning.

"Hey, you take that back. This ship has likely seen more action than even the Falcon. She was a sight to behold in her day." He sighed wistfully.

"You know it?" She asked, her voice full of disbelief. She too had approached the ship and was eyeing it critically. He wasn't sure the ship would ever fly again, but Force did he wish she could have seen it in its day.

"Oh, I know it. It was mine." He sighed, some of his happiest memories had been aboard this thing. If he could, he'd see this ship restored to all its previous glory. He had the funds, he supposed.

"And it survived all this time? Amazing."

"They were built to be tough. They were Jedi vessels – could even knock out Imperial Frigates and Cruisers. Think of this as the Falcon of its day." He answered, reaching between a thick grouping of vines and fighting with the external release for the boarding ramp. The ramp dropped with a dull thud to the tightly packed dirt beneath their boots.

Hurriedly, he bounded up the ramp and bypassed the airlock doors completely by simply forcing them aside with a wave of his hand and the Force. The interior of the ship was dark, not a light source to be found. With a snap-hiss, his blade was out, carefully held above his head to illuminate his surroundings. Gone was the polished white-painted Durasteel. Age had caused the paint to lose its gleam and instead it had become grimy and grubby, paint flecking off in droves. He turned his head over his shoulder and saw that the cockpit was a mass of vines, but the rear of the ship seemed to be more in-tact.

First, he entered the room that housed the large holoterminal, the cylindrical room looking much the same as the entrance. The room appeared largely intact, with only a few damaged consoles. After a quick once-over, he darted down towards the cargo-bay on the lower level. Again, everything seemed to be in order, but the room to the engine compartment was magnetically sealed. It would only have done that automatically if the ships systems had detected something that required it. Radiation, perhaps.

"This is incredible." He laughed, still feeling somewhat in shock. "I'm home."


	7. Odessen IV

**It had been** six days since the Resistance had arrived on Odessen, and three days since the old Alliance base had been filled with new occupants. The transition was quick and painless, the Resistance used to quickly alternating between bases. The Raddus stayed in a constant geo-synchronous orbit. If anyone showed up in the system, they would have ample warning to either dig in and defend themselves or escape on the transports.

Once the Resistance had begun moving in supplies and filling out into the base in earnest, her master had come to her and told her to pack. There had been no if's or but's, and it seemed highly strange for them to just up and leave so soon after fighting through the remaining defences.

As if he were smoke, he'd disappeared just as quickly as he'd appeared, leaving her to gather her possessions. Much of what she owned could fit into the Falcon in the crates they were stored in. After all, she'd barely removed a fraction of what she now owned into her shared quarters.

And so, she'd approached the Falcon with her usual Jedi apparel and satchel expecting to be flying away from the Resistance. The thought had pained her, leaving Finn, Poe, Luke and Leia behind to fight the First Order on their own. When she'd spotted her master stood by the hangar bay door with a large satchel over his back, her curiosity had battered aside her emotional turmoil.

"About time you showed up. I thought I was going to have to send Chewie to find you." Nasra had greeted, his dark hair tied up messily at the back of his head and his blue eyes seemed to be shining with _something_. It never usually worked out well for her when he got that look in his eyes.

"Are we not leaving?" She had asked, confused. She had held a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. She could feel the heat on her face, arms and exposed sides of her stomach. It felt nice. Inviting.

"We are. Just for a few days. We're heading into the jungle – there's a spot I want to take you to." He'd replied, and she'd had to fight the urge to punch him in the face. She had thought they were leaving the planet! He'd offered no chance to ask any questions when he'd told her to pack up and hadn't even given her the slightest clue! Damn him! "Come on – there's daylight wasting." He'd finally said and set off.

The trek down the mountainside had been perilous. Once he'd stepped from the hangar and just _dropped_ , she was sure she'd been summoned just to watch him commit suicide. Her throat had been filled by her heart leaping up to it and her stomach had plummeted into the core of the planet. She'd rushed the lip of the cliff and glared down at his grinning expression thirty metres down.

"I want you to jump and use the Force to cushion your fall. You need to get used to it, we're doing it the whole way down." He'd shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

"You're insane!" She'd shrieked in return, eyes taking in just the scale of the drop. Not to mention the rest of the mountain! The hangar much have been at least halfway up it! He'd just shrugged in reply. She'd stepped back and began pacing – obviously, this was a part of her training. Part of her wanted to leap, while another much more pragmatic part of her told her there was still a fully functioning elevator that could just as easily do the job. She had expected Jedi training to be, well she wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting if she were honest with herself – this whole trial by fire business her master had adopted definitely wasn't it though!

With a grimace, she'd ran at the edge and leapt, channelling the Force through her legs as she did. Calling on the Force came so much easier now. Shan had mentioned just how impressed he'd been when she'd moved all of the rocks on her own once they'd landed. They had experimented with her powers when they weren't sparring, but nothing to the degree she had accomplished.

With every success, the intensity of the training increased – as did the difficulty. With a grunt, she landed on the boulder Nasra was stood on and rolled with the momentum. She came up panting, eyes wide and had patted herself down to make sure nothing was injured and just to double-check she wasn't dead, of course.

They had continued that all the way down the mountainside, and she had to admit – it was fun. At one point, and she couldn't quite pin-point when it started, but they had turned it into a game of sorts. Who could do the longest drop, or who could leap the furthest. She'd had to concede defeat to her teacher on those accounts.

When they'd reached the bottom, she had asked how he had known it was possible to get to the bottom from there – for them, at least.

"I used to sneak out of the base that way. A few of the jumps are bigger than they used to be, but they're no hassle." He'd shrugged casually, hoisting his backpack up a little higher and beginning their hike through the surrounding jungle.

They had walked for hours, the sounds of the creatures of the planet bouncing off of the tall trees that had trunks twice as thick as her. The air had been clammy and she'd found herself sweating within an hour.

Since then, the two of them had trekked further into the surrounding jungle as each day passed – annoyingly, her master hadn't seemed to be nearly as affected by the climate as she. Though, as she'd panted her way through each day, he'd intermittently passed on tales and stories of his previous life here. It was fascinating, hearing about his time as the Commander of the Eternal Alliance. The way he described Sith and Jedi working together towards a common goal – if the Sith ever re-emerged, was it possible for it to happen again, or was there too much bad blood between the ideologies?

As the two of them would make camp, Nasra had gifted her with a temporary single-bladed training saber he'd claimed to have found on his ship. While she was thankful to be learning the forms and sparring with an actual lightsaber now, her weeks of tutelage under the Jedi had passed on a number of far more subtle lessons. The primary one that always came to mind when using her new blade was that the grip wasn't quite right for her smaller hands, or how the hilt was a half-inch longer than she was used to. To a degree, she felt a little spoilt for knowledge with being taught by Shan. She'd resolved herself to absorb every minute bit of information he could pass on to make the Jedi better for it in the future.

Her mind continued to reflect on the events of the last week as she allowed the water to run down her face, washing the sweat and grime away. The force of the water cascading down onto her nearly nude body was so much that she'd had to keep her eyes closed.

The waterfall she was in was small, only perhaps two feet taller than she and she stood up to her waist in the clear, chilled water gently running her fingers through her dark locks. It was the first opportunity they'd each gotten to wash since the beginning of their little excursion. She hadn't hesitated when Nasra had told her where she could wash, grabbing her small satchel with a change of her robes and some basic sanitary products she'd managed to find in the Falcon some weeks before.

She'd practically sprinted to the water, divesting herself of her robes as soon as she came into sight of the water and dove under the water in her smallclothes. She'd heard Nasra's laughing the entire way and couldn't care less.

Rey had been forced to endure the awful stench their sweat had caused for the last few days and she couldn't take it anymore. She'd had a taste of a finer quality of hygiene since leaving Jakku, and she'd be damned if she ever let it be taken from her willingly.

And so, she continued there for a time, enjoying the feeling of the water running down her body and the complete sense of calm that came with it. Lazily, she opened her eyes and let out a blood-curdling shriek, though if anyone were to ask her about it in the future, she'd vehemently deny it.

"Are you quite done yet?" Her master asked lazily as he sat on an outcropping of stone just to the side of the fall.

" _What the hell do you think you're doing?!_ " She screeched, moving her hands to cover herself as she ducked her body under the water.

"Waiting for my turn. I thought that much was evident." Nasra replied, rolling his eyes. It was at this moment she realised he was without his upper robes, his skin bare to the world and in the dying light of the day it seemed to almost glow in its paleness.

"Well you can damn well wait a bit longer, _at the camp_." She growled dangerously as her eyes narrowed and she spat out a small mouthful of water that had made its way into her mouth. Water dripped annoyingly into her eyes and she wiped it away with the back of her hand, the other attempting the cover herself under the water.

As her arm dropped back under the water, she noticed he was gone. She looked around questioningly – her vision had hardly been blocked long enough for him to move that quickly. Something didn't feel right.

Suspiciously, the young woman stood up and continued to finish her washing routine, snidely taking more time than she normally would to go through her routine. First, she lathered her hair with some product that smelled vaguely of Fuji Apples, which she found intoxicating. Before she applied the gel to her hair though, she found herself breathing in the aroma in her cupped hands and smiling softly to herself. After a moment longer of self-indulgence, she began working it through her hair, moving her fingers in a small circular fashion like Leia had told her to do. The tension in her shoulders and neck disappeared, and her entire body shivered pleasantly as she performed the task with as much gusto as she tackled her training.

Afterwards, it was a simple task of gently washing the suds out of her hair under the running water. This time as she opened her eyes, there was no Jedi sat waiting for her. She'd resolved to give him a piece of her mind when she returned to the camp – perhaps a right hook would do it.

"I mean really, how long does it take you to shower?" Came the familiar voice behind her.

She spun automatically, ducking beneath the water as she did so. Before her, dressed in the same fashion as before was her Jedi master. Maybe more than one right hook, then.

"I thought I told you to wait your turn at the camp." She growled, balling her hands into fists. Quickly, her eyes flickered to the water they were both stood in and attempted to hide the smirk that came with the idea that popped into her mind.

"I preferred waiting he-" He began, only to have a large amount of water drop down on him from above that had been full of weeds and algae which were pleasantly absent by the fall. Her smirk died on her face when it all passed _through_ him.

"Wha-" She tried, when a distant voice began calling her name.

"Rey! Are you alright?" She heard distantly.

"I… think so?" She replied hesitantly, her eyes glued to the sparkling blue's before her. She dared not blink, less the being before her vanish again.

"What's wrong?" Her master asked, his voice above and to her left – the direction of the path. "Ah." He murmured.

"Mind telling me why there's two of you?" She demanded, her eyes still not leaving the smirking figure before her, though she felt somewhat saner now that she wasn't the only one seeing this.

"You're stood in the centre of a Force Nexus. Rey, say hello to your first Force Spirit." There was a cheeky wave and wink from the apparition before her. "And it should stop using a form that doesn't belong to it." He added with a bit more weight to his words.

The spirit shrugged and exploded into a flash of blue light, the two Jedi briefly covering their eyes.

" _Is this better, Commander?"_ The echoing voice asked. When she opened her eyes, the figure before her was no longer her master, but instead the glowing blue form of what she assumed to be a male human wearing a combination of robes and mask – not too dissimilar from her own master. Was this the spirit of a long dead Jedi?

Not very Jedi-like for watching her bathe.

"Keyan Solborne, fitting that you'd end up a Force Ghost. Now, before I tear your spirit to pieces, mind telling me why you were watching my Padawan bathe?" Nasra asked, his arms folding across his chest and a very unamused expression on his face. She could distantly feel him pulling power into himself through their bond.

" _Oh please. Do you have any idea how dull it gets on this planet? Besides, she's cute enough. Would've made a fine conquest in my younger years. You know how I do so enjoy Jedi playthings."_ The spirit shrugged and Rey's eyes bugged out of their sockets, her mouth hanging agape.

"Wrong answer, Occlus." Nasra snapped, lashing out with both hands as the spirit squirmed in his invisible grasp. Rey watched on, stunned. The apparition let out a blood curling scream as if it were in pain before exploding in a cloud of energy. Its departure left barely a ripple in the water. "Sorry about that."

"Who was that?" She asked, watching idly as Nasra turned his back to her out of politeness. She appreciated the sentiment, though she thought it was a little too late for that.

"A dead Sith." Came the simple response. With a grunt, she pulled herself out of the water and picked up a cloth to dry herself with. She paused at the answer she got.

"You say that so simply. I just became a personal show for a _dead_ _Sith Lord_!"

"If it's any consolation, that's the second time I've killed him now."

"It helps." She sniffed, wringing her hair out over the water.

"Don't bother dressing yourself or drying off. I want you to follow me into the water." Shan announced, his head slowly waving side to side as if he had been debating something internally.

Seriously? Why had he not told her as she got out of the water? He had to wait until she was almost dry and almost dressed to make his mind up? This was the decision to come out here all over again!

"Seriously?" She asked, her voice low and flat as her right brow arched up to meet her hairline.

"No funny business, I swear." Her master chuckled, holding his hands up to either side of him. With a sigh, she divested herself of what clothes she'd put on and dropped back into the soothing waters, briefly dipping under the water to keep her hair off of her face.

As she re-emerged, letting out the breath she'd briefly held and pushing what strands of hair had fallen into her eyes, she watched her master remove what clothing he'd been wearing for these last few days. While he'd been wearing his Jedi robes, much like she had, his were much thicker with the added armour plates that were interwoven – not to mention the fingerless gauntlets he wore and the large armoured combat boots that came up to his knees. He removed all with a practiced ease she envied.

As he pulled his hooded tunic up and over his head, she noticed for the first time in all their weeks of shared living that his torso was covered in a litany of scars. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it. As he turned and waded into the water to join her, she noticed that the front of his torso was oddly bereft of them, the skin looking fairly undamaged besides the occasional thin pale scar.

"I figure now's as good as time as any to introduce you to this place properly while we're both here." He began, his voice deeper than the apparition had made it, she noted absently. "A Force Nexus is any location that's particularly unusually strong. It can be the Force in balance, like this planet, or in this case the Light." He said, spreading his arms wide to indicate the body of water they were in. She noticed he was still wearing his cloth pants, the fabric covering him all the way from hips to shoulders.

"There's a lot of different benef-" He paused before clicking his fingers. "Rey, you still with me here?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. She never once drifted in any of her previous lessons.

A light blush formed on her cheeks and she cleared her throat, "Sorry, I was still thinking of the Sith. You were saying?"

Nasra nodded apologetically before continuing, "As I was saying, there's a lot of different benefits of these Nexus'. Some can provide good locations for Temples, such as Tython. Others are used in a Padawan's trails in becoming a Knight. While the Nexus' in tune with the Light are rare, they can be used to experience glimpses into the Force that are clearer than one would normally attain in a meditation."

"So, I could see the future?" She breathed, the words of her teacher sinking in with as much weight as a thousand Starkiller Bases.

He nodded slowly, his face solemn. "Possibly – remember though, the future is _always_ in motion. If you see something you don't like, if you work towards avoiding it, you could inadvertently be the _cause_ of such a future. Do you understand me?"

She nodded slowly. Don't go changing the future. Got it.

"Can I see the past?" She asked after a moment of thought.

"Possibly. The Force determines what we see, and it's not always clear as to whether it's the past or present." He answered her, bringing a handful of water up to his face. After a moment of wiping his face with the liquid, he let out a calming sigh. "I've never been particularly skilled with this aspect of the Force. I like the direct approach – I tended to leave these philosophies to the Consulars."

"Consulars?" She asked, the word foreign to her tongue and mind. Absently, she gently splashed water up and down her arms and over her bare shoulders.

"Ah. Well, there's three main denominations of Jedi. The Guardians, the warriors of the Order. Usually these are the most proficient with lightsabers. Then there are the Consulars, or the Sages – these would delve into the Force and try to master that. Finally, there were the Sentinels, who essentially tried to find a happy balance."

"So, you're a Guardian then?" She frowned, thinking about his title as Battlemaster and his skills with a blade. It made the most sense.

He chuckled in reply, leaning back into the water and drifting lazily on the current as his hair floated out around his head like a brown halo. "I wish it were that simple. No, I'm a Sentinel – specifically a Jedi Watchman."

"What's a Watchman?"

"It depends on who you ask, to be honest. The _official_ job title was to be a liaison to a specific system for the Jedi High Council and to protect that systems laws and rights. _Unofficially_ , we tended to branch off on own and combat the Darkside how we saw fit." He laughed quietly to himself and after a moment added, "Usually with the business end of a lightsaber."

"What type of Jedi do you think I would be?" The question had been on the tip of her tongue ever since he'd first described them. Each sounded fantastic, if she were honest with herself.

"You're tough to pinpoint. You've excelled at everything I've taught you so far, not to mention that your personality falls fairly snugly into each of the roles. I think it's a question only you can answer further into your training. Don't get me wrong, I'll make you as well-rounded as possible no matter what you decide."

She smiled at that. The ability to decide for herself was a pleasant option that she had to admit had been extremely scarce throughout her life. She hadn't chosen to live on Jakku. She hadn't chosen to get swept up with Finn, admittedly not until much later. The ability to choose for herself was still such a new and exciting option for her, and she loved every moment of it.

"So, are you ready to delve into the Force?" Came her masters voice, snapping her back to reality. He was stood to his full height and was slowly approaching her. Absently, she noticed that there wasn't an ounce of fat on him – each muscle trained through years of combat and training to make every aspect of his being a deadly weapon.

She nodded slowly, her eyes finally meeting the powerful blue ones that felt as if she were nothing but a child before.

"Good. Now, lay back." He instructed, his voice soothing as he knelt under the water. His right hand held the back of her head and the second found purchase at the small of her back. Her first reaction was to punch him square in the jaw, despite her body relaxing into the touch. Her near nakedness forgotten almost entirely. Slowly, the two drifted into the centre of the small plunge pool. "Now, reach out." Nasra whispered, his voice immediately drifting away as she submerged herself in the Force.

 _Immediately her vision went as black as the void, the only sound she could hear was her own breathing. She looked around quickly, her heart beating wildly in her chest. What would she see? The future? The past? The future?_

 _Within moments, she felt her being pulled forwards by an invisible force. When she came to a sudden halt, she found herself in a war-torn street. All around her were the bodies of soldiers – some were First Order Stormtroopers, while others looked like far better equipped Resistance soldiers._

 _A TIE fighter screamed overhead as it burst into a ball of hot flame, the X-Wing that had shot it down following it shortly as distant AA-fire struck an engine. Neither pilot would have had a chance to eject._

 _A nearby explosion shook the paved walkway she was stood on. Acting on instinct, she brought her hands up to cover herself from the shrapnel – luckily though, something or rather someone stepped between them._

" _Rey! We have to move!" Nasra screamed at her through his expressionless helmet. His blades were at his side, humming brilliantly in the sunlight. His robes were torn and scorched – there even seemed to be a slowly spreading wet patch on his side._

" _You're hurt!" She found herself shouting back over the din. She moved to look at the injury, but he just shrugged her off._

" _It's nothing – got nicked by some shrapnel. Come on, we have to keep pushing!" With that, her master began jogging ahead, a squad of soldiers falling in behind him without comment. Even from where she was stood, she could feel their spirits lifted by the sight of the Jedi Master._

 _She moved to follow, idly looking down to see her usual Jedi robes where there previously had only been her underclothes. In her hand was a saberstaff she didn't recognise – it wasn't ignited, however._

 _Her master rounded a corner a few meters ahead of her and immediately a hail of gunfire left the street they'd entered, the screams of men and women of half a dozen species crying out as they were cut down in an ambush. The cracks of lightsabers clashing echoed in her ears – her pace quickened._

 _The street was empty besides the bodies. Blaster holes were blown through all of them, their limbs – if they were still attached, were at odd angles. Some had large gashes across their bodies, still smouldering from whatever had torn through them._

 _A body shifted, crawling towards her weakly._

" _Rey…" The weak, pained voice of her master called out. She turned to look at him, her eyes going wide. His robes were a charred mess, his helmet cracked and half of the faceplate completely missing as blood ran freely from his eyes, mouth and nose. "Rey… Run!"_

 _As he said that, he gasped in sudden pain, his eyes going dull as a deep crimson blade was plunged into his back, a dark figure kneeling beside him. She screamed at the loss she felt – the large, bottomless void in which her masters presence had been in her mind._

 _She couldn't make out the features of the monster, only a swirling black cloud that wielded a crimson blade. She only knew one being that carried such a weapon – Kylo Ren. Before she could attempt to avenger her teacher, her friend – she was pulled back into reality._

A shuddering gasp left her as she returned to reality. Her eyes darted about wildly, taking in the large trees that hid the body of water she floated in. Nasra's eyes appeared over her, his face no more scarred than it had been before her vision.

Righting herself in the water, she latched herself to Shan, wrapping her arms around the man and sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm never doing that again."

"You'd be surprised." He chuckled, his body rigid in shock as she grasped him. After a moment she felt him gently patting her on the back. "See something you didn't like?"

She hesitated, pulling away from her teacher and sinking deeper into the water – conscious once again of being barely clothed. Should she tell him? Could she somehow avoid what she saw? "Is it possible to stop someone from dying with the Force?"

Her master was quiet for a moment as he too sank deeper into the water. "Naturally, not that I'm aware of. Sith often search for paths to immortality, though as far as I'm aware only Valkorian managed it but he drained an entire planet of the Force to do so. Why?"

"I saw someone die." She replied quietly, her eyes downcast as she sniffed.

"Someone close to you, I take it?" She could only nod.

"That's a dangerous path, Rey. Countless Jedi have fallen because they searched for the power to keep people they cared about alive. Remember what I said earlier – if you try to prevent a vision, you may inadvertently end up causing it. Besides, not all visions are literal."

"But what if it is?" She asked, her voice desperate.

"Then it is." He shrugged. "Everyone has a time, Rey. Besides, those who pass on into the Force aren't ever really gone. They'll be with you, watching over you until it comes to your time to join them." His voice was soft, reassuring – yet somehow, she didn't feel its affects. "Come, we should probably eat. You were in your vision for half a day – you must be famished."

She was about to protest when her stomach growled loudly, not too dissimilar from one of the many predators she knew stalked this planet. Her salty cheeks tinged red at Nasra's chuckle and the two of them pulled themselves out of the water.

* * *

 **The blade hummed** in the quiet night air, only the sound of her breathing and the distant nocturnal creatures were there to accompany it. Her eyes were blindfolded, the dark strip of cloth coarse against her skin.

"Concentrate."

She shifted her weight to her back foot ever so slightly and brought the single blade up in a guard across her front. Her breathing remained steady and she could faintly feel her misted breath rise up to tickle her nose.

"Focus."

Her heart thumped in anticipation. She flicked her tongue out to wet her lips slowly. Suddenly she snapped the blade to the left and back to the right, covering her shoulder. Without missing a step, she moved forward a single pace and bent forward at the waist, feeling something fly past her. With barely a flick, the blade spun in her hand and protected her back in a swirl of amethyst. She made sure to spin her body with the manoeuvre as Nasra had taught her, coming to a steady stop in her original position. There was no reprieve however, and her blade had to keep moving. Three bolts came toward her on the right which were blocked with a bare minimum of movement just before a pair came from the left – the first aimed at her left thigh and the last at her chest. She blocked her thigh fist before snapping the blade into a horizontal position and batted away the final threat.

"Impressive." Nasra congratulated her, clapping slowly. She removed the cloth from her eyes and de-activated the blade, the grin on her face causing her cheeks to ache.

"I could see them – actually _see_ them. It's like nothing I've ever experienced." She breathed, the wonder in her voice barely contained. Would it be like that all the time?

"With continued training, you'll sense them sooner and far more clearly. Not just training probe stunners, but lightsaber strikes, falling debris, a knife in a crowd. The possibilities are limited only by how much you dedicate to your connection to the Force."

"Is that how you fought those droids? You could sense where they'd shoot?" She asked, grasping a nearby canteen and taking a mouthful of cool water.

"Partly. It comes with experience. Those droids were barely able to aim and move." He shrugged, crossing his ankles casually as he leaned back on the boulder he had been lounging on, a pair of sticks lazily floated above him, imitating a duel. "How are you finding your sense of the Force?"

"It feels stronger and clearer each time I use it." She admitted. Nasra had mentioned once or twice how surprised he was at how quickly she grasped everything he taught her – it was a little daunting, hearing the words but she made a point of continuing to throw herself bodily at everything she was taught. More so since her vision in the pool a few days prior.

"That's good. Tell me, since we've been out here – have you felt the pull of any dark places? Any feelings of overwhelming coldness?"

"No. I've continued meditating before going to sleep but nothing like on Ahch-To." She replied, taking a seat beside him. He seemed to nod slowly and brought a hand up to scratch at the beard that had grown in the time they'd been out here.

"That's good. You're learning control when you meditate. Your emotions have been all over the place since your vision – I just wanted to make sure." He smiled gently. She appreciated the sentiment and smiled back before frowning as a lock of hair fell into her face. Blowing it off her face, she turned her gaze upon her master.

"You prefer it out here, don't you?"

"What makes you think that?" He asked in response as he closed his eyes and folded his hands behind his head.

"For all your talk of being a soldier on Ahch-To, you feel calmer than ever before – dare I say even happy. On occasion."

His eyes opened at her last remark, mockingly glaring at the sarcastic tone and the raised eyebrow. He left out a huff before closing his eyes again, "I can be happy." He pouted.

"Uh huh, and I moonlight as a Wampa."

"You drool in your sleep like one, at least." He sniped in response, laughing to himself as she swatted his shoulder.

"Joking aside, you really are calmer. I can sense it."

He sighed deeply as he opened his eyes and stared longingly up at what little of the night sky they could glimpse through the canopy above them. "Odessen has a lot of memories for me, even before I woke up on Ahch-To."

"You know I don't mean being on the planet. I mean being out here, doing this." She interrupted, gesturing her hand out before her to their little training circle made out of intermittently placed stones in the clearing they were in. "The hermit life agrees with you."

"You take that back." He demanded with no real effort behind it. He let out another sigh, "It was Kira's favourite way to get away from everything. I'm at peace because she would have been."

"Your Padawan?"

"My _wife_."

The correction gave her pause and genuinely left her somewhat speechless. She'd had no clue, though now that he'd admitted it, the way he'd always spoken about her made sense. When he'd reminisced on the Falcon on the way to Naboo, he was remembering a love he'd never see again. Suddenly, even his outburst on the Raddus made sense to her – not only was he grieving for lost friends and family, but his wife as well.

"I'm sorry, I-" She began to apologise, though his raised hand cut her off.

"It's fine, really." He chuckled quietly, "I've had a few years to mourn her."

"You mourned her on Ahch-To?"

"No. Before that." He replied. A dark look flashed in his eyes so briefly, she thought she'd imagined it.

"What happened to her?" She asked, the question leaving her mouth before she could stop it. For a moment, all was silent between the two of them. Would he explode like he had on the Raddus? No, he was much calmer than then. He felt… tired, weary almost. The bond they had admittedly helped her to gauge his mood much more effectively as her powers increased.

"She was murdered. I was frozen in carbonite and slowly dying. Three months after my capture, the previous Emperor of Zakuul ordered his guard to eliminate Kira. She'd been trying to rescue me, leading raids against depots and the like. She'd been looking for me." He ran a hand down his face slowly, "She had been pregnant with our first child. It took a dozen Horizon Guard to kill her. I didn't find out until years later."

"How did you find out?" She breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

"I'd been looking for any scrap of information as to where she had disappeared to. Two years after I dethroned both the Emperor and his successor, I found out after a captured Horizon Guard sought to trade information for a pardon. I didn't even know I'd snapped his neck with the Force until he'd collapsed on the floor."

"I'm so sorry." Her heart bled for the man. All the loss he'd suffered throughout his life, defined by his skill in combat. The allies and comrades he must have lost over the years – only to lose the two most important people to him when he was powerless to stop it.

"You've nothing to be sorry for," He shrugged, blinking up at her and meeting her gaze. "I made sure all but one of those responsible were dead before I was put into that stasis unit."

"All but one?" She asked, folding a leg beneath her absently as she turned her body to face him.

"Arcann. The previous Emperor. He was a member of the Alliance – it's a long story." He waved the already forming question away with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Suffice to say, he wasn't the same man that gave the order."

They were quiet for a time after that, the sounds of the jungle calling out around the two of them. As she swept her gaze over the area, she couldn't help but think of the man beside her. He'd passed on the occasional tale of his exploits and his past, rarely lingering on any one detail specifically unless asked. She had a vague idea of how harsh his life had been, his trials as a Jedi were incalculable. Yet here he was, continuing on through his life – refusing to give up. Could she offer that same strength and resolve if their positions were reversed? Somehow, she wasn't so sure.

"We'll head back to the base in the morning. I'd suggest getting some rest." Nasra grunted as he stood and walked into the darkness. He paused briefly at the edge of the clearing as he looked back and gave a sad, soft smile over his shoulder. He disappeared into the darkness a moment later, walking in the opposite direction of the camp.


	8. Mandalore I

**The world exploded** around her head as a blaster bolt impacted the wall she was taking cover behind. Slamming her eyes shut and turning away with an arm over her head instinctively trying her best to not scream out in alarm.

"Rey!" She heard distantly. Someone grabbed her by her shoulders, she could feel the chunks of debris and dirt biting into her flesh under the strong grip. "Rey! We have to go!"

As her eyes focused once more, she found herself staring mutely into the eyes of Poe Dameron. With a click, the world snapped back into focus.

"I'm not leaving him!" She shouted back, her eyes darting left to right at their allies firing back on the First Order Stormtroopers that had them cornered.

"If we don't leave now, we're dead, you hear me? We _have_ to get out of here. We'll figure out another way of getting to him! But right now, we have to move!" As if to punctuate Poe's argument, the iconic and terrifying scream of Twin Ion Engines could be hear in the skies above them.

"Move, move, move!" Someone yelled as everyone scrambled in different directions.

There were a number of dull thumps as the rapid-fire blaster bolts struck the walkway and then an incessant boom and everything went white.

* * *

 **One month earlier...**

"Congratulations, your lightsaber seems to work perfectly." Nasra smiled as he turned the hilt over in his grip. She beamed in pride from where she stood before him, hands clasped tightly at the small of her back to hide the dirt and grime they were covered in. Her Jedi Master twisted the activation with his thumb as one end of her staff lit the room up in a deep orange hue.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it, were it not for your teachings." She replied honestly. Since their trip to the Force Nexus six months ago, her training had increased ten-fold. The Force came as easily as breathing to her, and her Master marvelled at her progression with each passing day.

"Somehow, I suspect you'd have managed to do it on your own at some point regardless, Rey." He smiled at her. His beard had made a comeback these last few weeks, and as he reached his left hand up to gently stroke it, as he was sometimes inclined to do, she thought idly that it suited him.

"Perhaps I don't need you then, hmm?" She smirked, raising her brow at him. It received a quiet and undignified snort as he de-activated her staff and tossed it back to her.

"When you can beat me in a straight fight, then you can be as cheeky as you want to be. Until then, you're to join me on the Command Deck with the Princess and Master Skywalker. And clean your hands!" He called to her as she bowed and ducked into the refresher in their shared quarters.

With her hands clean and the smears of grease removed from her cheeks, she stepped out into their small quarters with a grin. "After you, Nasra."

With a roll of his eyes, her Jedi Master lead the way out of their quarters, the tails of his robes whipping about his knees and twin lightsaber hilts bouncing on his thighs. Odessen had come a long way since the Resistance had arrived. Fighters and Freighters came in and left each day, and the forest around the base of the mountain had been pushed back for five kilometres in every direction for a clear line of sight. The base itself had also been improved upon, with the rocky tunnels being replaced with sterile white Durasteel corridors. Supplies had been coming in far more frequently these last two weeks, and as she weaved around a Corporal carrying one too many crates of rations, she couldn't help but feel an energy about the base. Something was going to happen soon, she was sure of it.

"General!" Nasra called out as the two of them entered the Command Deck. All around, Command staff rushed back and forth making countless decisions in a constant buzz of noise.

"Master Shan, good, you've arrived. And Rey, always a pleasure." Leia smiled at the two of them, her presence alone making Rey feel a dozen times lighter. "My brother is waiting in the conference room."

As the General led the way into the room, she caught a glimpse of Master Skywalker. His hair was trimmed, as was his beard and he looked younger than the last time she saw him – it seemed being involved with the Resistance had helped alleviate something within him, and she was glad.

"Shan, Rey." Luke smiled as he nodded at the two of them. With all the introductions out of the way, the four of them sat down.

"I hear congratulations are in order, Rey. Constructing a lightsaber is an important step in Jedi training. I'm sure it will serve you well." Leia began, reaching over and patting her hand. She grinned in return.

"Now that Rey has her own blade, I wish to take her with me when I leave to gather allies. The Resistance claims to have allies in the Outer Rim, yes? If you're wishing to wage war on the First Order, you'll need more than just the Outer Rim." Nasra announced to her left. Her head snapped to him as her mouth dropped open in shock. She was to join him? He really thought her ready?

"I agree. The Rebellion had cells spread all across the galaxy, and in the Battle of Endor, we had a fleet twelve times the size of what we have now. We need to start sending agents out to gather allies." Leia nodded, folding her hands together on the table before her. "I assume you have a few ideas from your own experiences?"

"I do." Nasra nodded.

"Care to share?" Luke chuckled, stroking his beard with his mechanical thumb, his arms otherwise folded across his chest.

"The Mandalorians." Nasra began, holding up a hand to forestall any discussion, "They're some of the best fighters in the galaxy. They've given the Jedi and the Sith difficulty in the past. Now, I understand their numbers took a hit during the reign of the Empire, but I believe I can get them to join us. With me still breathing, their pledge of loyalty still stands."

"How can you be so sure? We've reached out to the Mandalorians in the past and we've had no response. How can you be so sure they'll listen to you?" The General frowned.

"My Ancestor broke the Mandalorians above Malachor V. I brought the Mandalorians into the Alliance when I was its commander. They were my greatest shock-troops. Their Beskar is unparalleled in its defence. I have a few other ideas as well. The Voss would be useful, as would any remnants I could gather from Zakuul."

"It sounds as if you could be leaving us for a while." Master Skywalker pointed out. Rey had to agree, from the sounds of it, they'd be away from the Resistance for months at least!

"I would suspect six months, at least. There's some information on my Freighter that we would need to transfer to the Falcon, but besides that, we should be able to manage ourselves for the most part."

"Master, what if something were to happen to the Resistance? What if the First Order finds them?" She asked quietly, her eyes worriedly panning back and forth between Luke and Leia.

"I'd be surprised if they find the system, but if they did, then it would be the Will of the Force. I can say no more than that. The base here is strong, and the First Order's planet killer is gone. They would be able to hold out for a time. Long enough for us to try and help. I would suggest setting up a secondary base, however." Nasra replied, looking back to Leia as he added that last part.

"Very well. Your mission is approved. Gather your old allies and return as soon as you can. This fight is going to be a long one, and we'll need all the help we can get." Leia nodded, standing. As she stood, so did Master Skywalker and Shan, with herself a second behind. As Leia bowed slightly and began to walk to the door, Nasra called out once more.

"Oh, and General… I'll need a team."

* * *

 **"I can't believe** this, we're going to Mandalore?" Finn asked for the seventeenth time since he was added to their roster. She wasn't counting. Not in the slightest. Oh, wait, here comes eighteen. "What's so special about Mandalore?"

"They're a warrior culture with unparalleled armour and weapons. A single shock trooper, given time to prepare could wipe out a company of troopers. They also give us Jedi a sweat." Nasra grunted as he carried a large crate into the hold of the Falcon.

"Yeah, they're kind of shoot first, shoot again, and shoot some more kind of people. You'd like 'em." Poe added as he stepped around everyone as he worked here and there on some wiring.

Rey, meanwhile, sat and attempted to meditate as she was instructed to do. All this noise around her wasn't at _all_ distracting. The one comfort she seemed to have, was the calming presence of her master going up and down the ramp.

"Chewie, watch ou-!" Someone yelled, before a loud crash of tools echoed through the ship. An angry roar from her furry friend answered, and as she tried to subtly crack an eyelid open, she caught a glimpse of Chewbacca poking his head up from a maintenance hatch with one paw rubbing the back of his head and another wrapped around Finn's throat. A quiet snicker to her left revealed Shan leaning against the bulkhead, trying to cover his grin. He turned his head to face her and raised an eyebrow at her peeking. Opening both eyes, she rolled them as she stood up.

"There has to be something I can do to help." She said, looking about the main cabin. All around here were crates of supplies and weapons for everyone on the team. It wasn't a large team by any means. Chewie was their heavy support, Finn was Fire Support, BB-8 was Tech and Poe was their pilot.

"We're mostly loaded up. Poe's just got one or two systems to go over and then we'll get clearance to leave. You could help me with something though." Nasra replied, gesturing for her to follow him down the ramp.

As they came to the bottom, there was one last item waiting to be brought onboard. A shut-down ancient looking astromech with what appeared to have once been a silver and gold casing. "It's going to be a long trip, and I'm going to need a pet project. If you want, you'd be more than welcome to help me put him back together. His name is TeeSeven. He was my droid."

She knelt down by the ruined droid, its head lolling to one side. It was roughly the same size as Artoo, and dwarfed BB-8, but as she glanced over her shoulder at her Master, she could see a sad smile on his face. "I'm not sure how long it'll take us to find the parts, but it wouldn't hurt to try. He meant a lot to you, didn't he?"

"I met him just before I became a Jedi Knight. Never has there been a more loyal droid in the galaxy. Come, lets get him inside. I managed to find a few parts on the base that might work."

As the two of them carried the droid into the ship, the two of them could hear the engine begin its warm-up cycle. It wasn't long until that familiar feeling of weightlessness that came with a take-off began. From the looks of things, it appeared Chewie was helping Poe in the cockpit, while Finn and BB-8 were resting. As they placed the droid down, BB-8 quietly rolled over to the two of them, tilting its small head back and chirping quietly.

"This is Nasra's droid, just like you're Poe's." Rey smiled down at the little white and orange ball. The droid chirped another series of noises that caused Rey to chuckle. "You're right, I think you're much better looking." She whispered loudly and winked at the little droid.

The journey to Mandalore had taken them three days and in all that time, he'd spent almost every waking moment planning. How would he approach the Mandalorians? Did they have a new Mandalore? Would they still honour the Code? There were too many variables, and he was much more concerned about the mission than he'd led Luke and Leia to believe.

To try and alleviate the stress, he'd been working with Rey to try to repair TeeSeven. It seemed age had gotten the better of the faithful little bucket of bolts, and he'd be damned if he wouldn't get the droid back in working order. The possibility of having a companion from his previous life was just too tantalising to ignore. It seemed Rey sensed his desire, as she'd thrown every scrap of knowledge she had at the droid.

"Why don't you just remove his memory bank and place it in a new casing?" Finn asked from behind.

"I could do that, but it wouldn't be _him_. Besides, I don't know enough about droids to be confident that it would be compatible." He replied, hissing as he caught his finger on a bit of metal.

"Y'know, we could get most of the parts we need from Mandalore. I'm sure they have a Droid-smith or two." Rey suggested next to him. She had removed her Jedi robes after the first night on the Falcon and had been wearing a comfortable jump-suit. He was far too used to wearing his robes all the time to do something similar, though he was currently debating why in the Nine Corellian Hells he was wearing the armour.

"Probably," He began, biting out a curse in Huttesse as a wire sparked, "Speaking of, Poe, how long until we arrive?"

The pilot looked up from his position at the Dejarik table where he'd been staring at Chewie for the last fifteen minutes of their game. "Uhh, about an hour?"

Nasra nodded absently before pushing himself away from the innards of his droid. "Alright, get ready for arrival. Rey, go get changed."

As Rey pushed herself up and walked towards her bunk, he couldn't help but look over to one of the crates across from him. Within that crate lay the one hope he had at convincing the Mandalorians to join him. If it didn't work, well… improvising usually worked.

"So, what's the plan?" Finn asked, wiping a rag along one of the many parts of his pistol.

"When we land, you'll ask to have an audience with the current ruler. Rey will lead you. Meanwhile, I'm going to sneak my way in alongside you. Once we're all in, I'm not entirely sure how it will happen. On one hand, they could start blasting at us. On the other hand, it could go peacefully. Not to mention everything in between."

"So, we're improvising?" The ex-Trooper asked.

"Essentially." The Jedi shrugged, standing.

"What makes you so sure they'll start blasting us? Are they really that hostile?"

"They could be to me. It's to do with my helmet." At this, he walked over and retrieved said helmet from a crate by the man. The T-shaped visor stared back at him as he ran a thumb over it. "My Ancestor wore this helmet and practically destroyed the Mandalorian people. It'll definitely get their attention."

"Well, it was nice living while it lasted, I suppose."

* * *

 **Mandalore was everything** Nasra remembered it to be as he stepped down the boarding ramp of the Falcon behind everyone else. As they stepped foot on the landing pad, two Mandalorian Dock Guards approached the group, their electro-staffs at the ready. He cast his eyes over the group quickly – Rey was dressed immaculately in her Jedi robes with a white cloak wrapped around her shoulders, while Finn and Poe had both taken on the appearance of regular Spacers with Nerf-leather jackets and blaster pistols strapped to their legs.

"You're not registered as planned arrivals. Identification, now." One of the guards demanded, adjusting his grip on his staff. They seemed on guard for some reason.

"You do not need to see our identification." Rey replied, waving her hand in front of her.

"We do not need to see your identification."

"You are glad to see us."

"Oh, we're glad you're here."

"So glad."

"Hey, you think she's ever pulled that on us?" Poe whispered to Finn. Nasra snorted as he wrapped his cloak around him tighter and continued pulling the Force in on himself.

"You will escort us to your Mandalore." Rey commanded one last time. The two guards nodded and led the way to a small patrol craft. Once everyone was aboard, the guards accelerated out of the spaceport and into the domed city of Sundari.

As the wind whipped his cloak, he cast his eyes about, taking in the sights as best he could. The city was magnificent – large airways allowed for the constant stream of traffic to go about their business. The buildings themselves were interesting. Tall square columns rose up from floor to ceiling with large clusters of buildings growing off of them. It seemed that no space was waster either, as when he glanced up, there were buildings lining the inside of the dome too. One glance at his apprentice, and he could clearly see the awe.

The journey to the palace was straight forward. They ran into no trouble, not even when they came to a gentle stop just before the main doors. As everyone disembarked from the skiff, he decided to lag behind a step. As the guards escorted them through the palace, he couldn't help but marvel at the large walls of glass windows that cast beams of light into the building. Having never visited Mandalore before, and having only really dealt with Mandalorians in military centres, it gave him a whole new perspective on the culture.

As they weaved between crowds of dignitaries and guards, the group eventually found their way to the main audience chamber that was crowded with beings of a dozen or more species. At the far end of the room, sat a woman in full Mandalorian armour, minus her helmet, looking incredibly bored as a supplicant droned on about taxes.

"Slana'pir be olar!" She finally snapped, her red hair falling forward to frame her face as she scowled as the man was dragged from before the throne. "Tion'ad's projor?" She called, her eyes falling on the group before him. "Off-worlders? Meg business vaabir gar ganar ti Manda'yaim?"

"Honoured Manadlore, my companions and I have come to discuss items of great importance. Perhaps, if we could speak without your Court?" Rey suggested, pulling the hood of her cloak back from her head.

Mandalore, as that's who he assumed her to be, snorted. "Anything said to me can be said before the Court. We are all Mando. Who are you, to request a private audience with Mandalore?"

"I am Rey, Jedi Padawan-"

" _Jedi_! The Jetiise are all dead. The Empire and the First Order saw to that. Besides, your people have never been friends of mine. Why would I even consider –" She began, shooting to her feet. It was at this moment he decided to step forward and reveal his presence.

"Because I _command_ it." He called, his voice enhanced by the helmet he wore. He could hear the gasps of those around him as they took in his armoured black robes and the red and black mask that covered his face.

"Impossible!" Mandalore hissed, her face paling. "Guards! Seize the Destroyer!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He warned, waving a hand and throwing the guards against the wall. Immediately, blasters and Electrostaffs were trained on the four of them. He stepped forward, ignoring the weapons trained on him. He could sense the panic from Rey through the bond they shared and tried his best to send soothing waves of energy back to her. He flexed his fingers as Mandalore stalked down the steps, her helmet now covering her head.

"The Revanchist is dead. Gone for thousands of years. Who are you to wear that helmet?!" Her hands came to a rest on the twin blasters she had holstered on her thighs.

He turned to the crowd behind him and raised his arms to either side, "I'm the heir to Revan. I defeated him in single combat on the fourth moon of Yavin. My name, is Jedi Master Nasra Shan, and I've come to continue the alliance that we began in the war against Zakuul!" At his words, mutterings broke out between everyone in the room. It seemed that the Mandalorians remembered his name Good, he could work with that.

"Nasra Shan is dead, almost as long as Revan has been. We have no alliance with a dead man!" Someone called out from the crowd. Murmurs of agreement following.

"I can assure you, I'm very much alive. Mandalore the Preserver was a friend and ally to Revan, Mandalore the Avenger was my friend and ally! What kind of Manda'yaim would you be? Manda'yaim the Oathbreaker?" He was goading her, he knew. While it wasn't his immediate intention, a fight would work to his advantage. If he could best her, he could secure the aid of the Mandalorians, perhaps until the day he died. He could turn that drive and need for a fight to the right cause.

"You _dare_ insult me?! I could have you killed here and now!"

Nasra tilted his head and chuckled, "You could very well try." He turned back to the crowd and began walking back and forth before them, "When I last saw the Mandalorians, I saw a culture of warriors! The Jedi feared what you could do, the _Sith_ sought to use you as weapons! A single Shock-Trooper could turn the tide of a battle! Your fleets controlled entire systems of planets! What I see before me are not the Mandalorians in their glory, I see _cowards_ more fixated on taxes and keeping books than warriors!" He turned and came to a stop before Mandalore, "Who can prove me wrong, hm?"

"Very well, _Jetiise_ , I challenge you to single combat, here and now!" Mandalore snapped. Immediately the crowd pulled back to the edges of the room, guards dragging Finn, Poe, Chewie and Rey with them, each of them fighting against their captors.

"I accept, Mandalore." With a shrug of his shoulders, his cloak pooled at his feet and with a gesture of his hands, his hilts slapped into his hands, the cyan beams _snap-hissing_ into existence as he took a ready stance.

Without any hesitation, Mandalore opened fire with her twin blasters. He snapped his blades back and forth in front of his body, deflecting the bolts harmlessly into the floor or ceiling as he began approaching his opponent. Once he'd approach a few steps, Mandalore shot up into the air, a jetpack he hadn't noticed flaring to life as she circled him from above.

He rolled out the way of a barrage of fire. He was at a disadvantage fighting while she was in the air. However, if he could get her to the ground, the fight would be over quickly. Mandalorians were fast and skilled warriors, but against a fully trained Jedi, their melee skills often couldn't keep up. Not to mention, he could always use the Force.

A warning from the Force had him leap twenty meters to a large stone pillar on the other side of the room just before a rocket detonated where he'd just been stood. With a grunt, he set off sprinting back across the room towards his target and launched both sabers into the air at her. While she managed to avoid the first, the second bounced off of her shoulder, just lightly catching the jetpack. With the thrust firing intermittently now, she'd be forced to land.

Before she could do so, however, he leapt into the air and planted both of his feet into her stomach. The kick had the desired effect of winding her and crashing her into the marble floor.

Just as his hilts were to land in his hands once more, he found his wrists suddenly entangled in a thin wire. "Wait, what the-" Before he could get any more out, the wire suddenly glowed with electricity and he grit his teeth as the currents wracked his body.

He looked up momentarily to see the wire coming from a wrist mounted launcher on his opponent. With a gesture of his fingers, he shot a bolt of electricity at Mandalore, hoping to short circuit the device, which thankfully, it did. With a grunt, he snapped the wire and called his blades back to him once more and began stalking to his opponent.

Momentarily surprised, he watched as Mandalore unhooked a hilt he hadn't noticed until now from her belt and activated it. A black lightsaber blade snapped into existence and suddenly he was on the defensive, parrying the blade away from his own. This Mandalore was a skilled fighter, that wasn't in any doubt, however, she was using the blade as if it were some regular Vibroblade.

With a quick parry with his offhand blade, he brought his main blade under her guard and through the hilt of the saber, effectively destroying it. He could hear the gasps and cries of outrage behind him. Apparently it seemed to have some significance to them. Oops.

With a quick kick to her gut, and a sharp knee to her helmet as she doubled over, he brought his blades to rest over her throat in an X as she lay on her back, panting.

"Do you yield?" He shouted, casting his eyes around the room.

"I yield. I am beaten. Go on _Jedi_ , finish it." She demanded, her faceplate staring up at him.

"Why do you people insist on dying?" He sighed, retracting his blades into their hilts. He bent down to offer her a hand. Just as her hand touched his, he spun around, sensing the warning and threw out his other hand.

Emerging from the crowd were five Mandalorians, blasters trained on him as Rey shouted out in horror. Their blasters continued spitting out bolts as quickly as their wielders could press the triggers. Between himself and his attackers sat a wall of frozen blaster bolts, hovering in mid-air. Once Mandalore was on her feet, he outstretched his remaining hand to lend whatever strength he could.

"Move!" He yelled, listening as Mandalore sprinted behind a column.

With a grunt, he threw the bolts he was holding back into their attackers, peppering them with dozens upon dozens of blaster bolts. Not even their Beskar could protect them from that kind of punishment.

"Is everyone alright?!" He called to the room, casting his gaze across the crowd. It was then Rey, Finn, Poe and Chewie broke free of their guards and sprinted to him.

"Yeah, us, we're with him!" Finn called out to the guards that were far too stunned to do anything.

"You stupid, stupid Hutt-Spawned Kath-mutt!" Rey exclaimed, rushing up to him. Without an ounce of hesitation, she punched him in the helmet hard enough to stagger him a pace or two – she'd definitely used the Force for that one, he surmised. Then as if a switch had been flipped, she threw her arms around him in a bone crushing hug. They hug from Rey he could have managed, even if his bones _were_ creaking. It was when Chewie joined in he thought he was going to be snapped in half.

"This all very emotional and precious right now, but what happens now?" Poe said, looking between his assault and the crowd around them.

"Who were they?" Someone called out from the back.

"Clan Varad, by the looks of it. First Order supporters." Mandalore announced as the crows parted before her. "So, Jedi, you haven't killed me, but you still defeated me." The room was silent as she took a knee before him, "We are yours to command. We follow the strong. This is the way." She intoned, removing her helmet and placing it on the floor before her. Silently, as one, the entire room knelt and intoned, "This is the way."

"Rise, Manda'yaim." It was at this moment, he realised just how young the woman before him was – she couldn't have been any older than his Padawan. He turned the room at large as Rey took her place by his side. "We come on behalf of the Resistance! We've struck a blow against the First Order and we plan to take the fight to them. We need allies, and we need friends. I led the Alliance against Zakuul, and the Mandalorian people were right there with me. Together, we achieved fantastic things – I would give you those victories again!"

As one, the room stood and cheered. "Come, we should talk in private."


	9. Mandalore II

**The room that** Mandalore had led them to was austere and spartan, the earthy colours of the room a stark difference from the bold blues, greys and golds of Sundari's architecture. The room was dominated by a large, circular bench with a dozen or more seats surrounding a large holoprojector. The walls were covered in dark frescos of what appeared to be ancient battles – one even looked to describe a battle against Jedi.

Her eyes swept the room, trying to take it all in as Mandalore gestured for them to take a seat, though a glance over at Chewie saw him choosing to stand.

"So, you're Resistance." Mandalore sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. Despite her own young age, she couldn't help but marvel at how someone who appeared younger than herself had risen to lead a culture so devoted to combat.

"We are." Shan confirmed to her left. She felt Finn shift in his seat to her right and tried to give him a reassuring smile as she folded her hands in her lap.

"The First Order could do to Mandalore what they did to Hosnian Prime if they knew you were here. The Mandalorians would be finished. You'd be finishing what they Destroyer began." The young Mandalore pointed out, tapping a finger on her helmet.

"You don't have to worry about that weapon anymore. All of my companions played a part in destroying it."

"But not you?"

"I was _indisposed_. I've been away from the galaxy for a long time."

"Indeed. Well, you defeated me in combat, and I've pledged my honour to you. I trust you understand what that means to us."

"I do. You're a skilled warrior, defeating you wasn't easy." Shan acknowledged, bowing his still helmeted head across the table to her. Why were the Mandalorians so put out by that helmet? She'd heard them refer to him as the Destroyer, and her Master referred to himself as the Heir of Revan? Who was that? Shan had been tight-lipped about his helmet and its original owner whenever she brought it up.

"Oh please. If you really are who you say you are, you've fought much stronger than I. In any case, I suppose we should begin discussing what you plan for my people." Mandalore scoffed, waving a hand dismissively.

"Very well," Shan began, leaning both his elbows on the table before him.

"But first, you'll remove that _kriffing_ helmet. I'll not sit here and talk to the ghost of Revan." The young woman demanded, slapping a hand on the table.

Rey could hear her master sigh as he lifted it from his head and placed it on the table. It didn't appear as if wearing it had bothered him, but the reaction of the young woman across from him was interesting at the very least.

"It _is_ you." She breathed; blue eyes wide. Rey's eyes darted between the two of them suspiciously, though she fought to keep her face impassive. "You said you'd been away, where were you?"

"I was placed in stasis. My Padawan and a fellow Jedi released me."

It was not that the Mandalorian woman turned her head and properly took in Rey for the first time. Squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to sit a little straighter as her eyes darted back to her master for a brief moment.

With a smirk, Mandalore said, "I see I've greatly underestimated you, Padawan Rey. Who was this other Jedi?"

"Master Skywalker." She replied with a flat tone, and she could feel her right eyebrow raise ever so slightly.

"Indeed. Well, I don't suppose you know just who your Master is, do you? We Mandalorians have a long history of battle. We respect strength of arm above all else, and none of our enemies have struck fear into us as the Revanchist and his _Heir_."

"That's enough, Mandalore." Shan snapped, his eyes flashing. Despite herself, Rey leaned forward as Poe, Finn and Chewie shifted uneasily at the tone of the woman across from them.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, he hasn't told you? That helmet belonged to his ancestor, the Sith Lord Revan. Revan was once a Jedi Knight, the strongest of the order. He led the Republic against us in the Mandalorian Wars, and decimated us above Malachor V. Afterwards, he turned his sights on the Republic and almost destroyed it. Your Jedi Order captured him and turned him against his followers before he disappeared for three hundred years. Then, he returned to the galaxy with your Master at his side. They annihilated systems of Mandalorian and Sith territories before the Sith got to Revan, but your Master here wasn't anywhere to be seen."

The air suddenly dropped enough degrees that her breath fogged before her face and ice began creeping along the desk. Her head snapped to Finn to see his lips trembling as he rubbed his hands together, Poe in a similar situation next to him. As she turned her head slowly to her left, she looked upon her Master once more. Could these things be true?

"Is – is it true?" She asked, placing a hand on the arm closest to her. Suddenly the helmet far more terrifying than it had been a few moments ago. How many had looked upon that helmet before dying? Hundreds? Thousands? _Millions_?

"I shall remind you, _Manda'yaim,_ that you just pledged yourself to me." Shan spoke, his voice full of a power that hadn't been there before.

"I have, and I know who _I_ fight for. Do _th_ -" Her words were cut off as she suddenly reached for her throat, the veins bulging. What was happening? Was she choking on something? Finn and Poe jumped up and raced to her side, searching for any inkling as to what was going on.

"My _name_ is Nasra Shan. I am many things, but I'm _not_ Revan. I would suggest you choose your words more carefully in the future." Shan said calmly, and after a brief moment, Rey realised just what was happening and a quick glance at his curled fingers confirmed it for her.

" _Master_!" She called forcefully, and not a moment later Mandalore lurched forward, sucking in deep breaths greedily.

"Like I said," Mandalore panted, "I know who I'm fighting for, _my Lord_."

Slowly, Shan rose to his full height, Rey not a moment behind him, her hands on his shoulder. With a quick shrug, he was out from under her grip as he summoned his helmet to his hand on his way to the door. "You will begin training your warriors to combat the First Order."

With a glance at her companions, the young Jedi Padawan was running after her Master. It seemed he'd left a trail of terror in his wake as he'd stormed off. Relying on her bond with the ancient Jedi, she managed to catch up with the man a few floors above the Throne Room on a balcony overlooking the city.

"What the _Kriff_ was that down there?!" Rey demanded, a fury in her gut she hadn't felt before. Why was she so angry? Sure, he'd not told her the full story of the helmet, but that was his prerogative. How many wars and battles had he endured? How many had he lost? How many had he _killed_?

"You have no right, Rey." He replied coldly, taking a deep breath as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"No right? Nasra, we're here for allies, not for you to choke them across the table! You lost control!" She accused, jabbing a finger in his direction.

"I was in full control."

"Gizka-shavit!" She yelled, stepping in front of him, her head tilted up to look him in the eye. Slowly, his eyes opened and she almost gasped as she stumbled back. Instead of the usual dark blue orbs she was used to, she was greeted by two blazing yellow ones. "W-what's wrong with your eyes?" She whispered, suddenly feeling far colder than she had any right to be.

"There's nothing wrong with them." He sneered, waving a hand dismissively.

"Nasra, they're yellow – what's the matter? What happened to them?"

There was a moment of silence, and just as she was about to open her mouth to ask again, Shan exploded, "I told you, I was a student of the Darkside! This is the cost! I'm angry, that's all!"

"The Darkside did this?" She whispered, stepping up to her teacher. Gently, she placed a hand on his cheek. "You're more than your anger, Nasra Shan. Whatever Mandalore said doesn't matter. It's what you do with your power that counts – you taught me that."

There was a wild look in his eyes for a quiet moment or two, the sounds of the city below them the only noise around them. Suddenly, with a deep breath Nasra slammed his eyes tightly shut and tensed before instantly relaxing with a loud exhale. When his eyes opened once more, they were back to the deep blue she was used to. "Thank you." He whispered, suddenly appearing exhausted.

"You'd do the same for me." She smiled, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tightly. They stayed like that for a short while. Her face buried against the armoured plates of his chest and his hands on the small of her back and the back of her head.

"I lost control. I'm sorry." He murmured quietly into her hair.

"It's not me you choked." She sniffed. She wouldn't say it aloud, but what she'd felt in that rage through their bond had terrified her. The Darkside was cold, yet a fiery fury. It was destruction unchecked, and if her Master could embrace it so quickly, could she? She shuddered at the thought.

"Oh _Force_ , I choked her!" He gasped, jumping out of the embrace and darting down the corridor. With a sigh, she took off after him – _again_.

* * *

 **She had decided** to let Shan apologise in private, feeling that this was something he had to do on his own, though it didn't help the feeling that she thought she was abandoning her master in his moment of need.

The whole ordeal had shaken her – she'd witnessed her master harness the Darkside in the past, with ease, even. Never had she seen him slip into its grasp though. From what Shan had taught her, there were two aspects to using the Darkside. The first, you could hardness and control it through balancing one's emotions – if you felt extreme hate, you balanced it with another emotion, such as happiness. It sounded like a contradiction to her, but it seemed to work. The second was what most fell to – the Darkside controlling the user. He'd regaled her with countless tales of Jedi, some he'd known personally, who had fallen victim to the whisperings and seductions of the Darkside.

She was self-aware enough to know she was quick to anger, prone to rash and reckless decisions. Though she'd never admit it to him, her greatest fear above all else was becoming just another Jedi who fell. While she knew she had a long journey ahead of her as a Padawan, and an even longer one as a Jedi Knight, she resolved herself to succeed. It was no different than entering a dangerous wreck on Jakku! Tricky and foreboding on the outside, but once she got going, it was no different than any other.

Her feet had taken her back to the conference room where she sensed Finn, Poe and Chewie bickering. _Men_ , she thought rolling her eyes. With a wave of her hand, the door slid open and the bellowing voices of the Pilot and Trooper assaulted her ears.

"He's not in control! You saw what happened! How are we going to get allies if he chokes them?!" Dameron demanded, pointing a finger in the general direction of the doorway. So heated in their discussion were they, that neither noticed Rey standing there. Chewie did though, so she gave him a little smile and a wave as she leant her shoulder against the frame.

"Don't you think I get that? But he's our Commander for this mission! Besides, just in case it slipped your space-dusted head, _He's_ the one with all the data! Who is _Voss_ , anyway, huh?"

"Oh no, no, no, no, we're not glossing over the space-dusted comment. Come on, lets hear it!" Poe sniffed, folding his arms over his chest.

Rey had to resist giggling – giggling wasn't a very Jedi thing to do. Not in front of these two, at least.

"Seriously, _that's_ the bit you want to focus on?"

"I refuse, categorically, to be referred to as space-dusted. Peppered, I'll allow, grizzled, maybe! Wizened at most!"

It was then that Chewie decided to add his two-creds, which caused both humans to turn to him in shock.

"Chewie!" Gasped Finn, taking a staggered step back.

"How could you say something like that?" Dameron cried, self consciously running a hand through his hair.

Rey, who had heard Chewie merely comment on Poe's hairline couldn't take it anymore and fell into a fit of laughter as Chewbacca whuffed his amusement. "Is your hairline really that important to you? I think you'd look good as a boiled egg." She commented, clasping her hands before her.

The look Dameron sent her could have vaporised entire galaxies, "Never joke about a man's hairline, Rey. Some things are sacred."

"Noted. Now, how are you three holding up?"

At the shift in topic, the three of them looked between themselves and shifted awkwardly. It was Dameron that spoke first, folding his arms once again across his chest and letting out a quiet sigh, "Look, Rey, we get that he's your Master and all. But what we experienced," He gestured between themselves, "and what we _saw_ … Well, I'm not okay with that. Not to mention the _cold_!"

"Cold? I felt like I was on fire!" Finn muttered, shuddering at the memory.

A few quiet barks from Chewbacca had him saying that her Master felt like _Vader_ for a few moments.

"Wait, what do you mean _fire_?" Rey asked, frowning and approaching Finn slowly.

Eyes darting side to side between herself and Poe, Finn replied, "I dunno. I felt hot – angry, even. I didn't feel cold until he left the room."

Slowly, she reached out a hand and placed it on Finn's forehead, frowning as she concentrated.

"Uhh, Poe? She's doing the-the-the Jedi thing, Poe. She's doing the Jedi thing on _me_!" He stammered, slapping the pilot's arm as his eyes were glued to her hand. It seemed he was frozen to the spot. "Is she reading my mind, Poe? Rey, I swear, it was one time, and it was a stressful week, and I swear I-"

"Finn!" Dameron exclaimed, slapping him in the arm back, "Shut up!"

With a gasp, she stepped back from the trio and blinked rapidly. She'd felt what she'd suspected, and while it wasn't necessarily enough, it was proof that someone else had been touched by the Force. However, when she stepped back, Finn's eyes rolled into his head and he dropped like a sack of bricks.

Just as she moved forward to help him, however, he was back up and alert, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It would have been comical if the situation weren't so serious. "Whew, okay, that happened. That, happened." The ex-Trooper breathed, rolling his shoulders. She could sense the embarrassment through the Force and tactfully didn't comment.

"Rey, what was that?" Poe asked, placing a comforting hand on Finn's shoulder.

"You're Force Sensitive, Finn." She breathed, eyeing the darkly skinned human in a new light. Could he be trained as a Jedi? Would she have another she could relate to besides Shan and Skywalker?

"It's not enough though." Shan's voice spoke from behind her. She noticed the three before her tense warily. "You're an empath, but you're not strong enough to be a Jedi. I noticed it when you visited the training room."

"I'm a what?" Finn asked, his voice flat and his face visibly confused.

"An Empath. You can sense the emotions and feelings of other beings through the Force. For you, it's unconsciously – you can judge a person's intentions on instinct. I suspect, it's one of the reasons your combat scores are so high. You unconsciously use the Force to heighten your natural abilities." Nasra clarified, coming to a stop next to her. She smiled up at him slightly, and he returned it with a nod.

"So, what does that mean for him?" Dameron asked, his brow creased in thought.

"It means, he has the potential to become a truly remarkable warrior. Just like how you yourself use the Force when you fly. Skywalker believed the Uneti tree he gifted your mother might have had something to do with that." Shan calmly explained before sighing. "I understand the three of you don't trust me right now, and I appreciate that. I promise, once we leave Mandalore, I'll explain why it was such a sensitive topic. For now, Finn, I have an offer for you."

"An offer?"

"Part of my choosing to bring us to Mandalore first was you, Finn. I understand your loyalty is to my Padawan first, and the Resistance second," He held a hand up to forestall any argument, "and I respect and appreciate that. However, I'm also aware that the First Order was your family and entire sense of being, correct?"

Finn nodded slowly, wondering just where this was going. Rey had to admit, she herself had no clue where her Master was going with this.

"The Mandalorians are going to begin training and preparing their warriors. Mandalorians aren't a species, at least, not anymore. Anyone is welcome to become a Mando. I brought your combat scores with me from the Resistance and gave them to Mandalore. If you're willing to adopt their lifestyle and learn, they are more than happy to take you in. You would be the official representative between your new people and the Resistance. You would have a new family."

Her jaw dropped from the sheer shock of the offer. She knew, and had seen first-hand, just how skilled Finn was with a blaster. He'd told her of his intense training on Parnassos as a Stormtrooper, of the skills he'd picked up. Couple that with the infamous abilities of the Mandalorians? He'd wreak havoc on any battlefield – she quietly even suspected that Shan would have a hard time fighting him.

"Finn…" She breathed, her eyes wide as she looked at him. She could see he was certainly considering it.

"You'd have to undergo training, of course, and learn the _Resol'nare_ – the Mandalorian Code, but you already have most of the skills. If you choose it, you're a Mando for life, Finn."

"Tell me about them." He said at last, his eyes snapping to Shan with an intensity she hadn't seen in the man before. She knew how he ached to belong to something again, and she'd thought it had been with the Resistance, but maybe he'd be better with other like-minded warriors?

With a gesture, her Master beckoned them to follow him, speaking of what he knew of the culture as he led them through the building. "The Mandalorians were founded by a race called the Taung, thousands of years ago. They believe in a code of honour, and that combat is a cornerstone of civilisation. Without opposition - without _war_ , a civilisation will stagnate and eventually collapse." Shan explained, seemingly leading them somewhere. His helmet was on his face once more, she'd noted. Between rushing from the balcony and finding them in the conference room again, he'd replaced it. As such, the peoples of the palace were giving them a wide berth.

"Mandalorian society is divided into Clans. If you choose to join them, one of these Clans will take you in, and you'll receive their name. Some of the most infamous warriors and bounty hunters in the galaxy have been Mandalorians. Ordo, Vizsla, Fett, Skirata… even the one Mandalore herself belongs to; _Wren_." He finished, leading them through a large set of doors that led them onto a balcony overlooking a large training room. The space was absolutely boggling – you could fit half of the Resistance in here with room to spare! Everywhere she looked, she saw Mandalorians training against something or other; Droids, Aerial Combat, Hand-to-Hand, against simulated predators!

"Welcome, Finn. I'm sorry for my outburst earlier, we tend to think with our hearts and not with our heads at times. My title is Lord Mandalore, but my name is Mira Wren." Mira smiled, extending her hand to the stunned soldier.

"Hi…" He breathed, shaking her hand eagerly and gazing around the room. "How-?" He began, looking back and forth between the two as he rushed to the railing.

"We've fought over a thousand wars and learned from each one. Mandalorians strive to be the ultimate warrior. In the past, we've been used and manipulated. Now, we have a chance to change that. _Shan_ mentioned you were a First Order Stormtrooper?"

"FN-2187. I was a Squad Leader and was trained by Phasma herself."

"You have the training then. If you're willing, we'd like to see just how good it is." Mira offered, gesturing to the training room before them. There was a moment of silence between them all, before Finn nodded. "Excellent, if you'll follow me, we'll get you armoured up."

"Is this really a good idea? Is this really happening?" Dameron asked, earning a quite grunt from Chewie.

"If he accepts and becomes a Mandalorian, he'll be staying with us. This gives him purpose after the war is over, one way or another. Also, from personal experience, having a Mandalorian backing you up in a fight is always a good thing." Shan replied, clapping the man on the shoulder.

As she watched Finn disappear down a lift with Wren, something in her chest lifted. While it was going to be painful to let him enter this stage of his life, if it was where he truly belonged and was happy, then she would support him ever step of the way.

* * *

 **As the helmet** slid over his head, the heads-up display kicked in, and suddenly he was assaulted with more information than he'd ever seen in his life. Atmospheric readings, suit integrity, vital signs, target designations and more. With a pop in his ear, the commlink in his ear crackled to life, " _Welcome to Beskar armour. What you're wearing is what we train recruits in – get used to it, get a feel for it and understand how its systems work. Once you're ready, let me know._ "

As her voice disappeared, he flexed his muscles and felt the armour respond to his every movement. He felt quicker, his senses heightened. An icon in the top left of his display flashed for a brief moment, and with a controlled blink of his eyes, he toggled it on.

With a sudden thrust of power, the miniature jetpack built into the suit roared to life, lifting him half a metre from the Durasteel floor. With another blink, to the same icon, the pack died, and he landed with a heavy thud. For saying how heavy the armour looked, it felt like nothing – though if he listened carefully enough, he thought he could hear the servo's that helped to power the suit running in the background. Perhaps they were the reason it felt so light?

He'd noted early on that the armour looked different to the general style that most of the Mandalorians seemed to adopt. While theirs seemed to be fairly light weight looking plates over a jumpsuit, this suit was an armoured behemoth in comparison.

Looking down, he double checked the twin Mandalorian Heavy Blasters holstered on his hips and the Mandalorian Assault Rifle in his hands. If he recalled the Quartermaster Mira had taken him to, the rifle had a magazine capacity of five-hundred shots – impressive for the size of it. First Order weaponry was powerful and efficient, but almost _safe_. With a grin, he nodded to himself and stepped out into the training room.

" _Okay, first, you're going to show us how you handle a straight firefight. You can use whatever tactics you're most comfortable with, Verd'ika._ "

At the sound of the foreign word, the suit automatically translated it for him – a handy feature. Though it did sting slightly to be referred to as a Private again.

As he walked up a rise, he spotted a number of advanced looking battle droids armed with blaster rifles stood across a small square from him. A quick count showed he had five hostiles to contend with, and luckily there was plenty of cover between the two. A quick ping from his suit flagged all five as hostiles and it quickly mapped the terrain around him, providing a small map in the bottom left of his HUD.

" _Begin!_ "

Immediately, the five droids began advancing, a steady stream of fire flying towards him. His training kicked in instantly. Within a heartbeat, he was diving through the air and rolling into cover behind a Durasteel waist-high wall. He counted for a moment, timing his return volley as best he could. When there was a lapse in fire, he stood, slamming the trigger back and feeling the rifle buck against his shoulder. The rifle had three times the power of a First Order rifle! Oh, he _had_ to get one of these!

The first three bolts impacted his first two targets, while the fourth and fifth went wide. Two down, three to go. He ducked back down as the droids returned fire on his position and began advancing once more. Crouch-walking along the cover, he repositioned himself as best he could before popping up and returning fire. This time, one of the droids scored a shot on his left shoulder, but a personal shield seemed to snap to life just above the armoured plating. With three precise shots, the remaining droids were dropped. Checking his HUD, he noticed a bar along the top had shifted slightly – it seemed that showed his shield strength. After a moment had past, the bar returned to full and he moved on.

" _Well done. Next area._ " Mira ordered, eerily reminiscent of his old instructor when he was a child. Hang on, wasn't she younger than him?

The next area made him stop cold. Across from him weren't any droids – he was facing two Mando's in similar armour. Between them was a multi-tiered combat space that vaguely represented a small building. If he were still in the Order, He'd have requested Rocket Troopers to breach from the top floor while his squad moved in from the bottom. As he looked at his opponents positioning, it appeared to be a game of _King of the Hill_ – a common training tactic that was taught in most militaries and security corps across the galaxy. He could do this.

" _Defeat these warriors and get a taste as to how we fight._ _Begin!_ "

* * *

 **"He's doing well**." Shan commented next to her quietly. Rey stood to his right, and Mira Wren stood to his left. Rey had to agree, as tense as she was, while Mira remained silent within that helmet of hers. Below them, Finn was tearing through the training zones like a Mynock on a rampage.

"It's incredible!" Dameron whispered to her right, eyes transfixed while he watched Finn breach a door with a concussion grenade.

"He shows promise." Mira finally agreed, leaning forward against the railing. Quietly, a pair of guards approached them from behind and whispered something. With a curt nod, the guards retreated and Mira pushed off from the railing lazily. "It appeared I have some other unannounced guests. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course." Shan bowed slightly, Rey following a second behind.

"Do you think he'll pull it off?" She asked the older Jedi next to her, as the group turned their attention back onto their friend below.

"Oh, I don't doubt it. Come, it's getting late and we should get our supplies from the Falcon. Finn will be here for another few hours yet, and Mandalore has arranged for us to stay at the palace for a time." With a nod, she followed her Master through the door at the rear of the balcony and smiled as she sensed the unfiltered joy coming from her friend below.


	10. Mandalore III

**He awoke with** a groan, feeling the first rays of sunlight on his face as he turned his body into the bed below him. Scrunching his eyes closed tightly, he pulled the cover of his bed higher in the hopes of staving off the day ahead of him. Already, his mind was abuzz with the list of logistical tasks he'd need to go over with Mandalore to fully bring her people into the Resistance. Were their arms factories still viable? Did they have enough supplies to outfit her people? Did they still maintain a fleet? All of these would need to be answered and more if they were going to be a true fighting force for the galaxy.

With consciousness came his other senses. He could smell the clean scent of the sheets below him, and he would have to guess they had been washed with a detergent that had a faint hint of Jogan fruit. He hadn't had Jogan since his days as a Padawan, and the thought of the sweet fruit was making his mouth water.

He could hear, across the hall someone moving about their room. The whole crew had been given quarters in the guest wing of the palace adjacent from one another. Across the hall should be Rey, and with a quick brush of the Force, he confirmed it to be his Padawan making the Force-forsaken racket. The room to his left would be Poe and BB-8, with Finn across from him, and Chewie had elected to stay on the ship, which last night had been moved to the private dock of Mandalore herself.

Not a minute after confirming it had been Rey making the noise, a trio of loud thumps came from the other side of his door, causing a muffled groan to escape his lips. He hadn't slept this well in years, _Thousands_ , he thought idly. With a groan, Nasra pushed himself up, stifling a yawn as he stretched and rolled his joints. With a quick gesture of his left hand, the door slid open and his Padawan walked in, a gentle smile on her face. He squinted up at her, well aware that half of his hair was matted to his face.

"You, uh – you have a bit of something just here." Rey cheekily pointed out, reminding him of the time he'd pointed something similar out to her on Ach-To. Someone had just earned themselves a sparring beatdown. With a grunt, he wiped it away and slowly pushed himself to his feet.

"Mira, rather, _Mandalore_ has invited us to breakfast with her. Everyone else is already there." He heard her say as he plodded into the attached refresher cubicle. "She's been rather accommodating this past week."

He pulled his night-shirt over his head with a grunt, agreeing absently with his Padawan. As he did most mornings, once the shirt was off, he took a moment to look at his torso. While he knew his back had a number of scars from his time on Korriban and Dromund Kaas, the ones on the front of his torso were much more subtle. Many had been healed with the Force years prior – if he were honest with himself he could heal the scars on his back as well, but something stopped him. The scars on his stomach and chest were mostly gone, appearing as fresh and healthy flesh, however, the memories of them remained. Just to the left of his naval, the searing pain of a lightsaber wound. His right pectoral, a trio of blaster bolt impacts and countless shrapnel and knife wounds from countless explosions and battles. Any one of them could have finished him off, and yet for some reason he was still here, thousands of years past when he should have been. He trusted in the Force, and believed it had a plan for him, like it did for all its children – he'd just love to know _what_ that plan was.

With a grunt, he quickly changed into his robes, forgoing the helmet, tied his hair back and washed his face. When he emerged from the refresher, his loyal Padawan was still waiting for him, her back leaning against the wall next to the door, her arms crossed over her chest and a strand of hair wrapped around a finger idly. With a smirk she said, "Much better. Much more Jedi-y, less sleeping Wampa."

With a practiced ease, he called his lightsabers to his grasp and clipped them to his belt. As he moved past her however, he allowed himself a quick gesture with a couple of fingers in his Padawans direction. With a snort, the two left the room and began walking through the palace, their combat boots clicking against the marble floor in a steady rhythm.

As they walked the various corridors leading to the personal quarters of the Lord Mandalore, they passed a number of guards standing vigil along each wall. It wasn't hard for him to sense the discomfort their blank expressionless visors brought to his apprentice.

"Do they trouble you?" He asked, as the pair of them rounded a corner. Idly, he clasped his hands at the small of his back. A glance to his right revealed her brow slightly creased as she tucked her hair behind her left ear, a habit he'd noticed she had when something was on her mind.

"The helmets – they feel so severe." She shrugged, stepping around a cleaning droid as it went about its business.

"War isn't just a physical battlefield – it's a phycological battle as well. Intimidation goes a long way in a fight. Sometimes it can even prevent a fight." He pointed out, earning a slow nod from Rey.

Shortly after their brief discussion, they arrived at a large door that was flanked by a guard on either side of it. With a nod from himself, the two guards allowed them through the entranceway. On the other side was a large circular table with an array of fruits and dried meats set out. All around the table were their companions, hastily tucking into what they had on their plates – even Chewbacca was there, the great furry creature. As his eyes scanned the table, his gaze finally settled on Mira Wren, who was sat quite comfortably next to their very own Poe Dameron.

"Ah, the mighty Jedi awakens!" Poe called, much to Rey's amusement beside him as she stepped towards an empty seat.

With a roll of his eyes, he followed, taking the seat to her left. "You should have seen the state I found him in. Anyone would think he hadn't slept for a few thousand years!" Rey chuckled, nudging him with her elbow in the ribs.

Chewbacca snuffed his amusement across from him.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball! I'm not the one who was about to be guilted out of a meal by a flock of Porgs." He mocked in return, using a flick of his fingers to gently bounce a soft fruit off of Chewie's head.

"I trust you're finding your accommodations more than acceptable, then?" Mira inquired, taking a slow bite out of a hard fruit. It took him a moment to realise that for the first time in their stay here, she wasn't in her armour. Instead, she was dressed casually in what appeared to be a large baggy shirt and some form-fitting combat pants.

"They're more than acceptable, thank you. I appreciate this whole thing took you by surprise." He replied gratefully, pouring himself a cup of blue milk – it was a guilty pleasure of his. It always reminded him of his childhood with Theron before he'd left for the Temple.

"Good. I was just suggesting to your pilot here, that if anything were not up to your standards, I could arrange for some more _acceptable_ quarters." Mira practically purred, her eyes glued to their pilot. Finn coughed loudly, before thumping himself on the chest once or twice.

"Finn, you okay?" Rey asked, eyes wide. It appeared she was the only one that had missed the implication. Finn just nodded a few times before giving an awkward thumbs up as he took a quick mouthful of his fruit juice.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Just – took me by surprise, was all."

"Oh, I'm sure." Poe chuckled, winking to the younger woman next to him as he leaned back.

" _Anyway_ ," Nasra spoke up, "Finn, how's the life of a Mandalorian?" He asked, taking a bite of some fruit. The younger man grinned across from him.

"Fantastic. In all honesty, it's not too different from the Corps. The only real challenge is the language. The history is fascinating too!"

"Good. I'm glad you're happy." He grinned in response. The table lapsed into a comfortable silence for a time, each of them enjoying their food.

While he ate, Nasra took the time to take in the room they were in. While he'd taken his morning meal with everyone before, this room was new to them. Previous mornings, when Mandalore had invited them to eat, they'd eaten on a veranda not far from their quarters. The room was much more lavishly decorated than anywhere else they'd seen. All around them on the walls were holo-portraits of Mandalore's past. If he remembered his history, the hologram on the far side of the room was _Mandalore The Ultimate_ , and not two holograms down from him was _Mandalore The Avenger_. Grabbing a fruit from a bowl in front of him – they all looked the same to him, he stood and slowly stepped up to the portrait, the eyes of the table following him.

There were two depictions of her, one in her full armour, and another in her regular clothes. He'd seen her in both in the past, and as he gazed upon her now, he felt her eyes on him in return. Her hair was still thick, wild and untamed in its fiery colour, her lips still full and pouting – he knew a number of men and women who had been captivated by those lips. Her elegant brow and high cheekbones looked just as real as the last time he'd seen her, a meeting between the leading members of the Alliance discussing how best to move against the Empire as skirmishes began to break out across the borders. He reached his free hand up slowly and gently ran his fingers across her face.

"How?" He asked, without looking away.

"In her sleep, surrounded by family. Peacefully." Mira replied from her seat, her voice soft. He could feel her emotions through the Force – the sadness, the sympathy.

He scoffed, "She'd have hated that. Shae would've wanted to go out in flames. I'm glad she didn't, though." He smiled softly. The two of them had been fast friends on the base on Odessen. Shae had been a notorious Bounty Hunter in the years of the War. Like the majority of her people, she'd followed the previous Mandalore _The Vindicated_ , and fought alongside the Empire. The two of them had met on the pirate haven of Rishi during the Revan crisis. Later, the two had reunited some years later after she'd become Mandalore and he'd been rescued from the Eternal Empire. The two of them both knew beings the other had killed, but the bond the two of them had forged on Yavin was one of mutual respect that developed into a close friendship. Outside of Theron, Lana, his mother and his original crew, there were few he trusted like Shae.

"What was she like?" Finn asked around a mouthful of food. "I've already read a few accounts of some battles, but nothing describes her as a person. Is it true she helped sack the Jedi Temple on Coruscant?"

"That she did." He nodded, eyes still glued to his long-past friend. "She was one of the most feared Bounty Hunters during the Great Galactic War. She was about this tall," He said, bringing his right hand to just below his chin, "and could kick your ass from here to the Core Worlds. Could _really_ hold her alcohol too."

"Sounds like quite the woman." Poe muttered wistfully. _That_ caused him to briefly turn his head to his companion for a brief moment, only to receive an unapologetic shrug.

"Oh, she had quite the fan-base among the Alliance." He chuckled, raising a brow at Poe, "And she'd have eaten you alive." The grin that Dameron shot him caused him to quietly chuckle to himself. "Kira and Shae were fast friends." He added quietly.

"Who's Kira?" Finn asked, apparently just close enough to hear.

"She was my wife. She was killed by the Eternal Empire." He exhaled slowly before turning to look between Mira – who had an odd look on her face, and Finn. "Mira, Finn, if I could be so bold as to ask a favour?"

To his surprise, the two of them nodded instantly – not an ounce of hesitation on either of their faces.

"Could Finn be outfitted with a helmet in the design of Shae's? I understand the armour of a Mandalorian is a sacred thing, but I think it would do good to see it on the battlefield again."

"I'll see what the armour-smiths can make. Despite him being a _New-blood_ , we can't have our Resistance attaché making us look bad. I might get some heat for it, but I'll make sure Finn is well stocked."

"Why would you get backlash?" The young man asked, everyone but Rey having finished their meal. Nasra nodded slowly to Mira and settled back in his chair, his eyes never straying far from the portrait. A gentle hand on his thigh stirred him, however, and looked to his right to see Rey looking at him. A simple, subtle nod to his Padawan reassured her he was fine, however – at least, he assumed it did.

"Usually, Mandalorians earn their armour. However, with us gearing up for war with the First Order, we'll have to skip that particular tradition." Mira shrugged. "Can't realistically expect each Mandalorian to earn their armour through honour and valour when there's a war to fight. There's millions of us scattered across the galaxy."

"Will you be able to arm yourselves in time?" Dameron asked, placing his arms thoughtfully on the table as he stroked his chin with the pads of his thumbs.

"We should be able to. The Fleets are scattered across out space, and after the Empire we've recovered most of the Beskar that was stolen from us. When I put out the call, the Mandalorians will rally. Some have already returned – in the past week, we've seen some of the smaller clans trickle in."

"How large are the fleets?" Rey asked, taking a sip of some juice.

"We have five fleets that are made up of a variety of classes. Our shipyards aren't designed for large dreadnaughts these days, and at most just build anything up to a carrier. That doesn't mean we didn't grab a few Star Destroyers from the Empire in compensation though. Even bagged us a _Super Star Destroyer_." Mira smirked, playing idly with a strand of her hair as both Finn and Poe stared open-mouthed.

"You managed to bag an SSD?" Poe breathed, "We were under the impression only thirteen were made, and as far as the New Republic was aware, all but two had been accounted for."

"I don't know about any others, but we bagged this when we were throwing the Imperials out of our space. My mother led the boarding party." Mira shrugged, pulling a knee up onto the padded Durasteel chair and lazily rested her elbow on her knee.

"Even First Order Destroyers would struggle against an SSD." Finn pointed out, "When it comes time to fight, that ship could be invaluable."

"Will you be able to supply your people, Mira? Wars are very supply heavy – especially if this is going to be a drawn-out conflict." Nasra asked, stroking his beard absently. In the few weeks he'd grown it back, he'd found himself becoming quite attached to it.

"We should be fine for a few years, but as the conflict goes on we'll need to import foodstuffs. Getting a few bread-basket worlds on your side wouldn't go amiss." She suggested fairly.

"I'll bring it up with the General when we return. We need to make plans for the long-term, and it does make perfect sense. Tell me, do the Mandalorians still employ your War Droids?"

At the mention of droids, the Mandalore across the table from him pulled a sour face. "Ever since _Vindicated_ , we've avoided using droids." She paused for a moment, seeing the look on his face, "You think we should start using them again." It hadn't been a question.

"I do. We're fighting at a disadvantage, and the galaxy hasn't had to fight Basilisk War-Droids in thousands of years. We'll catch the First Order at a disadvantage." He replied, nodding and looking about the people at the table. It appeared none knew what the two of them were on about.

"Uhh-" Poe began to ask, though he stopped himself when Nasra held his hand up.

"A Basilisk War Droid was a droid mount used by the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders for the most part. It was usually used by the first wave of warriors when attacking a planet, and were used to blitz defences. To my knowledge, I don't know of any planets that actually withstood a _Basilisk-Blitz_."

"Damn. Is it bad I _really_ want one now?" Finn muttered, glancing pleadingly at Mira, causing the woman to laugh.

"We'll see. It's not going to be a popular idea, and it would take time we likely won't have to get them built. In any case, I wanted to show you something today, Jedi."

With a nod, everyone stood and began to follow Mira as she led the way from the room. Finn was the only one to break away from the group as he mentioned returning to his training and studies. As Mira led them through the palace, they began to descend into the bowls of the building. While they had descended to witness Finn training a week earlier, now it appeared they were venturing even lower.

When they finally did reach their destination though, they stepped out into a large hangar bay filled with a number of vessels. Off to one side, sat the _Falcon_.

"Come on, it's a bit of a trip." Mira called over her shoulder as she marched towards a medium-sized shuttle. He'd long since given up trying to recognise the various models of todays galaxy after he awoke on the island.

Once on board, the Mandalorian leader wasted no time in preparing the ship, and within a minute or two, they were in the air. As Mira led them to Force-knew where, Nasra took the time to inspect the interior of the ship. While not built for functionality, it appeared to have once been a military vessel with luxury items added on by the owner, that, he assumed was Mira.

All of them, minus Finn who was training, and BB-8, who was in low-power mode on the _Falcon_ , were sat comfortably on Nexu-leather couches in the main hold. There were multiple cabinets, and what appeared to be a small refresher and a small kitchen for long voyages, but besides that, there was very little.

With a bit of effort, as he had to counter the swaying motion of the vessel, he stood and made his way to the cockpit, which was separated from the main hold by a single Durasteel door, which incidentally opened without a problem.

"I take it," He said, his voice raised over the sound of the engines, "that by the way you're flying, we're not leaving atmosphere."

Mira laughed, her eyes fixed on the viewport before her as she skimmed the rocky deserts of Mandalore, now that they appeared to be outside of Sundari. It was hard to imagine that this barren wasteland had once been lush, green and fertile. "Don't you worry, Jedi. We're not leaving the planet today. Why don't you get the others ready, we'll be arriving in a few minutes."

With a nod, he retreated back into the hold and nodded to everyone else. While the journey hadn't felt particularly long, only a couple of minutes in fact, it seemed they'd about travelled where they needed to go. It was a testament to the craft they were in.

"This thing really moves, huh?" Poe grinned from his seat. He looked like a child in a sweet store.

"It certainly has some impressive engines." Nasra agreed, feeling the ship slow and eventually the tell-tale thud of it coming to a stop on its landing gear. Within moments, the young Mandalorian was out of the cockpit and leading the way down the boarding ramp at the rear of the hold.

When they stepped out of the shuttle, the brief dust-cloud that had been kicked up by the vehicle was just about calmed down. The ship had been parked on a rocky flat that rose above, what appeared to be a fertile grove. A quick glance at the young woman got a slight smirk in response. "This grove is one of a handful remaining on the planet. It's a closely guarded secret of the Mandalores."

"It's beautiful." Rey breathed, pulling her into a loose ponytail at the back of her head. "And nobody knows it's here?"

"These sights are used as personal retreats by the Mandalore. I chose this one for a reason." Mira replied, stepping down the path towards the grove, the rest of them following silently.

As they entered the grove, the Blba trees provided a natural shade from the harsh sun, and the grass crunched softly with the morning dew that hadn't quite evaporated yet. It was breath-taking. There were even insects darting this way and that.

As Mira veered to the left, something pulled at Nasra's senses and he quietly veered to the right, with Rey quietly following him. As he approached a small artificial wall, he noted a set of farming tools that had been laid down on top of it, the soil still clinging to the blade. For the first time, he realised that they were not alone.

The warning in the Force was the only reason he didn't lose his head. With a duck and a quick spin, his blade was in his hand, ignited and hovering a flick away from his assailants' neck. He was keenly aware of the familiar blade levelled at his own throat.

The snap-hiss of his Padawan's saberstaff reassured him Rey was fine, until he heard the dual-cocking of pistols and the slight gasp from his student. There was a moment of silence as he stared into his ambusher's blue eyes.

"You'll not find us easy prey, Knight." The older man spoke, his green blade ever so slightly closer to Nasra's throat.

"Just maim him, Ezra. We need to know how he got Mira's shuttle." A woman's voice spoke from behind Rey. How had he not sensed them?

"I assure you, we're not here to fight. We were brought here by-"

"Mom, Dad!" Mira's voice called, as the young woman ran up to them. Mom and Dad? That would explain one or two things, he supposed.

With a flick of his finger, the cyan blade retreated into the hilt, quickly followed by Rey's dual blades. It appeared the man before him, Ezra, hesitated for a moment before his own blade disappeared. The older man turned and scooped the younger, and much smaller, woman into his arms. Spinning her around as he smiled fondly. It was a heartbeat later that the woman who had yet to be named, wove around Rey and joined the two in a hug.

"Mom and Dad, huh?" Rey asked quietly, an odd look on her face as he felt the barest bit of sadness through their bond.

"Apparently so." He replied, folding his arms over his chest as a gentle breeze blew the large strips of cloth about his knees.

"Mom, Dad, I have some people I'd like you to meet." Mira announced, gesturing to her four companions now that Poe and Chewie had joined them. "Meet Poe Dameron, Chewbacca, Rey and her _Jedi Master_ , Nasra Shan. These are my parents; Ezra Bridger and Sabine of Clan Wren."

As he stood there for a moment and looked at the three individuals before him, for the first time he realised just how _young_ Mira was. Next to her aging father, with his military cropped hair, his full beard and dark hair, she looked a child. Though when he gazed upon her mother, the resemblance was uncanny, and it seemed she'd inherited her mother's penchant for colouring her hair, it seemed. He'd thought the red hue of her hair was more vibrant than was usually natural.

After a moment, Ezra turned to look at him directly before his eyes flicked to Rey and back to him. "I thought I was the last one. You're too young to have been trained during the Purge – I take it you survived Skywalkers Order?"

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he extended a hand to the man before him, "Ah, I'm afraid not. I'm much older than I look. My name is Nasra Shan, Jedi Battlemaster to the Order during the Great Galactic War. I'm a little older than I look."

"That would make you thousands of years old…" Sabine breathed; her eyes wide.

"He gets that a lot." Rey grinned, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. "He's pretty spry for his age though." That earned her an elbow in return.

"I think we'd better take this indoors." Ezra muttered, shaking his head slowly as he appeared to be taking it all in.

The homestead turned out to have been excavated from the rockface, so it was perfectly hidden from any prying eyes. All around the sandstone walls were beautifully carved with fresco's detailing the history and glories of the Mandalorian people. They were all currently in what appeared to be a dining area with a high vaulted ceiling that allowed even Chewbacca to stand at his full height.

He stood towards the back of the room, his hands clasped behind his back comfortably as he looked around the room, a small smile on his face. All around him were a litter of Feline animals with wide mouths, though none of them were any taller than half-way up his calf. While it appeared these creatures were usually a docile bunch – judging from the look Ezra was shooting them, they seemed absolutely fascinated with the visitors.

"So… You're an old one." Ezra sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. Rey sat across from him, with Poe to her left and Chewie behind him. Mira was stood, like him, except she leaned against a sandstone wall with her arms over her chest. Ezra's wife, he assumed they were married, sat to Ezra's left and was in the process of pouring them all a drink.

"Older than most, it seems." He nodded in return, reaching around his Padawan to pilfer a glass. After a quick sip, he added, "I was in my early thirties when I was placed into stasis. From what I can gather, that was three and a half thousand years ago."

"You knew about this?" Poe asked Rey, his eyes wide as he massaged his temples.

"I helped to free him. Master Skywalker-"

"He's alive?" Ezra asked, leaning forward.

"He is. He's returned to the Resistance and we've made plans to rebuild the Order." Nasra confirmed. There was an intensity in Ezra's eyes that hadn't been there a moment before. "I sense there's more to your question than simple concern for his wellbeing."

"What makes you think so?" The older man returned, raising an eyebrow to the younger man.

"Experience." Nasra shrugged, getting an affirming whuff from his Wookiee companion next to him.

There was a pregnant pause, the only sounds coming from a small feline as it jumped onto Bridger's shoulder and curled around his neck. "Okay," He said at last, "Sabine and I knew his father's Padawan – Ahsoka Tano. She helped us free Lothal from the Empire."

"I knew I recognised your names!" Dameron exclaimed, slapping the table between them with a grin. At the blank looks of himself, Rey and Chewie, his jaw dropped. "Okay, you I can understand," He admitted, looking his way, "But _you_ , you big furball should recognise at least Sabine! General Syndulla's crew on the Ghost! Battle of Scarif, Endor? The Phoenix Rebel cell? Kicked Thrawn into Hyperspace? Any of this ringing a bell? Wasn't there another Jedi in your team?" He asked, looking back to their hosts.

There were a mixture of expressions that crossed the pairs faces in that moment. Grieg, sorrow, pain, longing – all of these reflected in the Force around them. It appeared, they had lost a friend at some point.

"Kanan gave his life for us to escape towards the end of the liberation of Lothal. Without him, none of us would have made it. He was my teacher, and he was my friend." Ezra sighed heavily, and in that moment all of the felines crowded him, rubbing their long and lithe bodies against him in a form of comfort.

"I'm sorry, but what are these?" He asked after a moment, tactfully changing the subject in a bid to expel the melancholy.

"Loth-cats. They're native to my home planet of Lothal. I have a gift for creatures – Skywalker called it _Animal Bond_." Bridger smiled, passing a small cat over to Sabine, which promptly began purring and curled up into her lap.

"It's an impressive talent. I could have used it a couple of times…" He agreed, chuckling as he rubbed his jaw. How many times had a creature decided to attack him during one of his missions? There was the Rancor on Corellia that decided to wreak havoc during a firefight – that one stood out in particular. Or there was that Wampa on Hoth that leapt out of the snow in front of his Speeder…

It was at that moment he noticed his Padawan stiffen, her eyes going wide as she spun in her chair to say, "There's someone coming."

"Relax, that'll be Jacen." Sabine soothed, waving away his Padawan's concern.

"Jacen's here? Why didn't you say?" Mira asked, pushing off the wall as her eyes grew wide.

At that moment, a deep voice called out, "Ezra? Sabine? I'm back!" As the voice grew nearer, Ezra returned the call, letting _Jacen_ know where they were. A few moments later, a powerfully built young man, roughly the same age as himself stepped through the doorway.

At first, the mans features were shrouded in a faded and torn brown cloak, though he noticed the arms had been torn off. Under the cloak, it appeared he was wearing a silver spacers jacket with a pair of black gloves. The pants and boots were covered in dust and dried soil. When the man pulled back the hood of the cloak and removed the goggles over his eyes, everyone managed to get a good look at him.

He stood at roughly the same height as he, that being a few inches taller than 6ft. His shoulder-length hair, which was tucked neatly behind his ears was a deep green, as were his eyebrows and eyelashes. As the light kissed his face, however he noticed that the green didn't just apply to his hair – his skin had the lightest tint of green on his high cheek bones and on the tips of his ears.

"Jacen!" Mira exclaimed, charging the larger and older man and wrapping her arms around him. With a chuckle, the man returned the hug and took it a step further by picking her up and spinning her in a small circle.

"Ah, come here Mando! I haven't seen you in an age! Look how much you've grown!" He exclaimed, a winning smile on his lips before he ruffled her hair like one would a child.

"Jacen, we have guests." Sabine said, standing and kissing the man on his cheeks as he glanced at the visitors.

"So I see. Friends of yours?" Jacen asked, his eyes flicking to the twin lightsabers dangling on his belt. Nasra attempted a friendly smile as he stepped around Chewbacca to offer his hand.

"I'm Nasra Shan, this is my Padawan Rey. The Wookiee is Chewbacca and the fighter-jockey over there is Poe Dameron." He grinned, returning the strong grip as the two shook hands.

"Jacen Jarrus-Syndulla. Pleasure." He smiled warmly, though not before throwing a wink in Rey's direction. Nasra couldn't help but notice the blush that coloured his Padawan's cheeks.

" _The_ Jacen Syndulla? I went through the academy hearing about what you did above Raxus Prime! It's an honour!" Poe grinned as he hurried to greet the man. If Nasra had to put money on it, he'd have to say there was a _sparkle_ in Poe's eyes.

"Oh, it was nothing. I hear a different version of it every time I hear about it." Jacen chuckled, slapping Poe good naturedly on the bicep. "So, what did I interrupt?"

"We'd only just arrived a few minutes before you turned up." Mira answered, bending down to pick up one of the cats.

"Fair enough. You here to recruit the old man into another Order?" Syndulla asked, fixing his gaze on himself.

He shrugged in response, "That hadn't been the plan, honestly. We had no idea why Mira brought us out here. We had no idea any Jedi remained, truth be told."

"He's right, we were sent by the Resistance to secure the aid of the Mandalorians." Rey confirmed, nodding her hair towards Mira.

"That's bold. I'm surprised you agreed, Mando. What did the Resistance offer to fight the First Order?" Jacen asked, pouring himself a drink. It appeared he was intimately familiar with this abode.

Mira muttered something under her breath.

"Speak up, dear." Sabine chided, having returned to petting the smallest of the cats.

"Nothing." The young woman repeated, louder as she fidgeted with the hem of her baggy shirt.

"Why, for stars-sake, would you agree to fight for nothing in return?" Her mother asked, seemingly genuinely baffled.

"Do you not recognise the name, Mom? His name is _Shan_. How many in our history have that name?"

"You don't mean _the_ -"

"The _Heir of Revan_. He has the helmet in his quarters at the palace. He beat me in single combat in front of the court. I'm honour bound to pledge the people of Mandalore to his cause." She explained, though he noticed Sabine and Jacen tense immediately. "Besides," she added, "he's not so bad. Little moody, perhaps." She grinned at him.

"Appreciated." He replied, rolling his eyes.

"You would dare bring that helmet here?" Sabine demanded coldly, her eyes narrowed at him.

"It is _my_ helmet. Last time I was around Mandalorians, I had an alliance with Mandalore the Avenger. It's a symbol as much as it's functional. Besides, it _is_ a Mandalorian helmet." He replied, his gaze not wavering in the cold fury directed at him.

"It's a-" She began, before Ezra held up a hand.

"I'm sure he meant nothing by it. He knows what the helmet represents, and I trust there was nothing intentionally malicious in his actions, yes?" Bridger asked.

"I brought it more for shock value, honestly." He shrugged in return.

"See? Now, I'm sure we can all go back to a calm conversation now, correct?" Ezra asked the room as a whole, his eyes panning across everyone slowly. Once everyone had nodded their assent, though reluctantly in Sabine's case, Jacen spoke up.

"So, you have the Mandalorians fighting your war for you. What happens when the First Order finds out? You saw what happened to Hosnian Prime."

"I've heard. I was woken up after that. Though from what I understand, you have these three, and another friend of ours back at the palace to thank for that weapon being destroyed." He replied evenly, placing a hand on Rey and Poe's shoulders reassuringly.

"Look, I appre-" Whatever Jacen was about to respond with disappeared into the background noise of the room as something particular caught Nasra's eye. There, hanging on the mans belt was none other than a lightsaber. His eyes flickered between the young man and Ezra and suddenly his presence here made a lot more sense.

Ezra had a student, at least at some point. His training could have just begun, or it could have been finished for years. Closing his eyes briefly, he reached out with the Force and felt each person in the room. Sure enough, Ezra and Jacen shone brightly like a pair of stars. How had he not noticed Jacen's presence before? Perhaps he was just tired.

"How far along is your training?" He asked suddenly, halting all the conversation in the room. He noticed Jacen drawing himself up to his full height.

"If Ezra knew the ceremony, I'd be a Knight. Besides, the Jedi are gone."

"Not for long. Skywalker and I plan on rebuilding the Order. We're going to rebuild it on Tython, safe from the galaxy."

"Tython's been lost for thou-" Ezra began, "Oh, right."

He turned to look at Mira across the room. "We appreciate you bringing us here. It was lovely to meet your family, but I think it best if we return to the palace. There are details we need to discuss." He turned his gaze to Ezra and Jacen, "If you want to return to the Order and help build it into something new and stronger, use this to contact me. We'll be at the palace for the next few weeks I should think."

With a nod, Ezra accepted the commlink and placed it on the table. Already he could sense the conflict brewing within the two of them. With a nod to Mira, the young woman pushed off from her wall and quickly hugged each of her family. "I'll come back soon, I promise."

With her farewells done, and each of them offering a polite goodbye, the crew of the _Falcon_ filed out of the room after Mira. Though, he lagged behind a moment. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Master Bridger, Knight Syndulla. May the Force be with you."


	11. Mandalore IV

**"So, do you** expect to hear anything from them? It's been almost two weeks." Rey pointed out as she walked by his side to the Throne room. Her hair was loose, tucked behind her ears with just a few strands falling loose.

"Only time will tell. Hope for the best, plan for the worst." He smiled slightly, though it was lost on her. Once more, his helmet was secured on his head, with the hood of his heavy cloak pulled up to shroud his features. Mira, or rather, Mandalore had requested their presence for the day's session of court, and they planned to move on to Voss shortly after.

The discussions with Mira had been enlightening and allowed Nasra to get a better understanding of the Mandalorian's situation. While their numbers had taken an extensive hit by the precursor government of the First Order, the Mandalorians were a hardy culture and simply dispersed into the galaxy. They adapted, and they survived – it was truly admirable.

"Why do you think she wanted us to attend today?" She asked, and he noticed her hand was fiddling with the hilt bouncing on her hip.

"Likely as a show of solidarity and to announce to the Clans her plans. I suspect Finn may also have something to do with it." He replied, making a right turn into the Throne room. Not much had changed since the day they arrived, save for the blast marks having been cleaned.

Stepping through the threshold of the room, he directed Rey towards the back of the crowd and into a darkened corner where they could observe quietly. It often paid to not be the centre of attention, though as much as he'd tried to avoid it, the spotlight had usually found him over the years. As he cast his gaze around the room, he could spot small groups of representatives speaking quietly to one another, often times moving their hands back and forth or whispering conspiratorially in one another's ears. Leaning down slightly to speak into his Padawans ear, he said, "Look around the room. What do you see?"

She was quiet a moment, before replying, "Conversations?"

"Look deeper, past the surface. Look at their body language." He urged.

There was another bout of silence as it dawned on her, "They're making deals. Is this politics?" She asked, fairly new to the concept. He'd tried to teach the basics, though with her having lived on her own on a barren planet for most of her life, he could understand the foreign concept.

"Some of it. The posturing you see in public speaking is often the smallest part of it. It's deals like these that make the galaxy spin, for better or worse." He answered, folding his arms into his sleeves as he leaned back against the wall behind him. He was about to continue until he heard the voice of the current Mandalore call out.

"Court is in session!" She announced, her voice electronically filtered through her helmet. It appeared she'd opted to appear in full armour. Must be uncomfortable, he thought. "Before you bring your concerns to me, there are a few matters to attend to," Mira began, shifting slightly in her seat. "Firstly, Finn please step forward."

Though he couldn't physically see their companions in the crowd, he could sense them. As one, the crowd parted and a fully armoured Mandalorian stepped forward. The two of them in the back of the room had proud smiles on their faces. It took a moment, but he recognised the design of the armour. The body-pieces were designed in a similar fashion as the Neo-Crusaders, though with a lot more plating and less open areas, while the helmet had been fashioned in the design of Shae's. A warm feeling spread through his chest, seeing the familiar helm – though the paint job was different. Shae had opted for a grey/blue scheme, while Finn's appeared to favour a white and black colour scheme with four red lines cutting diagonally across his faceplate. The room was silent as he took a knee, his head bowed.

"Finn, you were once a First Order Stormtrooper, then a fighter for the Resistance. Now, you come before us to join our ranks. Is this your wish?" Mira asked, her voice strong and powerful.

"It is." Came the familiar voice of the young man.

"You have completed each battle scenario we've had you undergo, none here can doubt your combat ability. However, there is more to us than combat. Recite the _Resol'nare_!"

There was a moment of silence as Finn cleared his throat, and then in a strong, confident voice he began, " _Ba'jur bal beskar'gam, ara'nov, alit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor – An vencyuyan mhi_!"

"Do you swear on your honour, on your _Beskar_ , on me – your Mandalore, to uphold the Code and Creed of our people?" Wren asked, rising from her throne. With measured, careful steps she slowly descended until she was stood directly before Finn.

"I do, Lord Mandalore."

"Then rise, _Vod_ , and be welcome among us. Your armour will be a signal to the galaxy of your honour and skill as a warrior. Wear it with pride and conquer all foes before you. This is the way!" Mira exclaimed, extending a hand to the still kneeling Finn. With a firm grip, Finn accepted and was pulled to his feet. Even from their position, he could clearly see the way Finn now held himself, with pride and purpose. To his left, he heard the slightest sniffle from his Padawan. As he turned his eyes to her, he spotted a single tear rolling down her cheek and a happy smile on her face. Gently, he put his arm around the younger woman's shoulders and offered a simple half-hug.

"Now," Mandalore's voice continued once the clapping had died down. He watched as she stepped between the crowd and Finn, "Several Clans have expressed an interest in taking you in. Representatives of Clans Ordo, Fett, Hesk, Wren and Kajar, step forward!" As one, the five Mandalorians in full armour stepped forward, their Clan Sigils proudly displayed on their pauldrons. "State your cases to our newest brother, and he shall choose!"

Without a moment of hesitation, the first representative stepped forward. Ordo, if he had to hesitate a guess. "I am Chor Ordo. My Clan is one of the largest and oldest of all the Clans. Throughout our history, Ordo has produced some of the finest warriors and Mandalores. We would be honoured if you would add your strength to ours."

With a nod, the Ordo representative stepped back into line, and the next stepped forward. "I am Jumolo Fett. Our Clan, like Ordo is one of the oldest and largest. While I could offer fancy words and reassurances, I think physical proof speaks for itself. If you want proof of our strength, it was a member of our Clan, Jango Fett, who was used as the template for the Clone Army of the Republic – an army of unquestioned martial prowess and cunning. We would be honoured to count you among our number."

"I am Zhia Hesk, representing Clan Hesk. We are a smaller Clan, but our familial bonds are strong. Family is everything to us. We have heard stories of your bravery, cunning and skill while you've begun to learn our ways – our offer comes two-times. First, we would be proud to stand beside you on the battlefield. Secondly, our offer also comes with the offer of a marriage – I would offer myself freely to you, if you chose to become Finn of Clan Hesk."

There was a moment of stunned silence throughout the room at the proposal before loud mutterings broke out among the gathered beings. With a nod, the member of Clan Hesk stepped back into line among her male counterparts and Mira called for order. Once the room was quiet again, the offers continued.

"I am Canderous Wren, named for Mandalore the Preserver. I represent Clan Wren's offer, and by extension _Mandalore_ 's offer to join our Clan. Over the last few decades, Clan Wren has grown in both reputation and power, overseeing the unification of the Mandalorian peoples once more. Under _Mandalore the Unifier_ , we have seen an era of prosperity not seen in generations. We would be honoured to stand beside you, _vod_."

"I am Nidaz Kajar, representative of Clan Kajar. We are a clan of like-minded, straight forward Mandalorians, so I will speak plainly. Your combat scores are impressive, and we could use a warrior such as yourself."

With all the representatives back in line, the room was tense at the possibilities of Finn's choice. He didn't need the Force to feel the emotions of the various beings to tell him that.

"Finn, the choice is yours." Mira announced, gesturing a hand to the various clans. The fact that Mira's own Clan were offering to take him in was a big deal among the Mandalorians, if he remembered his history correctly.

"Clan Wren, it would be an honour to join you." Finn finally announced, loud enough for the room to hear. There was an enormous applause, and if he hadn't been wearing the helmet, he was sure he'd be suffering from a headache. As it was, the old Mandalorian helmet automatically dialled down the noise for him.

"Then step forward, Finn of Clan Wren, and receive the symbol of your new family!" A new Mandalorian called out who was equipped with a much more ceremonial style of armour. In the large warrior's hands were a pair of large tools that he hefted with absolute ease. When Finn stepped up to him, the Armour-smith immediately went about placing the signet on Finn's left pauldron. Once the sparks stopped, the room erupted into applause once again, himself and his Padawan joining in gladly – he even heard Chewbacca's growling cheers.

"Finn Wren, take your place with your new brothers and sisters!" Mira exclaimed, gesturing towards her Clan's position in the Throne room. Once the man had stepped over there, he was welcomed as if he were a long-lost sibling. Mandalorians of every size and species wrapped him in a quick embrace and began joking with him it seemed, though from his position so far away, it was hard to tell. "Now," Mira called once more, her voice calling an end to all the noise. "onto the next matter of business. A few weeks ago, we received a number of guests from the Resistance. I have pledged our forces to their fight!"

"Honour and Glory to the Mandalorians!"

"About time we showed the galaxy our teeth again!"

It seemed the Mandalorians were itching to fight. All throughout history they claimed they loved war and tough challenges – what greater challenge than to combat a galactic super-power?

"Ready your Clans, brothers and sisters. The word is given, Mandalore the Unifier calls the Mandalorians to _war_!" Mira yelled over the noise, raising her right fist into the air as the whoops and bellows of her court answered her.

The following details of the court were nowhere near as exciting as the first points. Finn was now a proud member of Clan Wren, and the Mandalorian people were officially going to war. It was halfway through a logistics issue when he felt it. The cold. It was followed by the enormous boom of a capital ship breaking through the atmosphere.

The room rocked, and glass clinked against one another as the occupants of the room looked about in confusion. Despite the confusion though, each and every Mandalorian unholstered a weapon and placed their helmets on their heads – those that had removed them, at least.

"What was that?!" Mira demanded, looking to her honour-guard. At her glance, one of them rushed from the room, presumably to find out. With a tap of a button on her gauntlet, a hologram of the city and the planet appeared in the middle of the room side-by-side.

"That's a First Order Destroyer!" Someone called out, pointing to the ship that was on an approach vector right above the city. From the hologram, a hundred or more smaller craft were spewing from its various hangars. He knew what this meant immediately. The First Order intended to take the city.

"Rey, I need you to go and get the others. Get them out of here. Go, now!" He ordered his Padawan, pushing her in the direction he sensed their companions.

"What about Finn?" She asked, looking back at him.

He thought for a moment, weighing the options. "He'll be expected to fight. He'll be expected to defend his Mandalore. Go, now!"

"What are your orders, Mandalore?"

"Our warriors aren't gathered yet!"

Mira was silent a moment, her shoulders heaving up and down in what he sensed was a barely concealed fury. "We wait. Prepare a defence, but for now, wait to see what they want. We will not be bowing to the First Order today! Go and prepare!"

With that simple order, the majority of the room sprinted to their newfound destinations. He wasn't sure what their preparations would entail, but he could be assured the First Order wouldn't like them.

"Nasra," Mira called, gesturing for him to approach. It appeared most of the assembled Clan Wren representatives had remained, along with a small token force from each of the Clans. They all intended to protect their leader. As he approached, he felt everyone's eyes on him. "Can you sense anything?"

"I can sense a Darkside adept. It's hard to tell how well trained they are."

"A Knight of Ren, most likely. Don't worry, from what I hear, they're no Sith Lords." An honour guard spoke up, his voice deep and tense. The assembled warriors nodded slowly.

"Finn, could it be this Kylo Ren I've heard about from Rey?" He asked, his head snapping to the young man.

"No, his flagship is almost half a kilometre bigger than this."

" _Mandalore, a ship is demanding to land outside the Palace. How shall we proceed?_ " An electronic voice spoke through a speaker system built into the room.

"Allow it to land. Let them show their hand first." Mira ordered as everyone in the room checked their weapons.

"We're with you, Lord Mandalore." A woman's voice spoke up, the clinks and clicks of ammo packs being checked, grenades readied, and armour being secured echoed throughout the room. Nasra stayed where he was, stood just before the Throne casually.

It wasn't long until the doors were throne open and a Mandalorian guard was thrown bodily across the room, coming to a slow stop by the window on the left side of the room. Immediately, another guard was kneeling down and checking the warrior's vitals. With a terse nod, the man was lifted by another pair of guards and rushed from the room through a side door.

As the two guards rushed out carrying their injured comrade, a handful of First Order Stormtroopers marched through the main door, their weapons held across their chests but their fingers not far from the triggers.

Once they had entered and formed a parade aisle, a darkly clothed being stepped through the procession, dark robes swirling at its feet. He could feel the hate and the anger from this being, but it was raw, practically untamed.

"Mandalore the Unifier, what a pleasure it is to see you." The voice crackled through the electronic filtering of the black and silver mask. The design was foreign to him, though it appeared to emulate some form of raging creature.

"A Knight of Ren. What do you want, bootlicker?" Mira demanded, standing before her Throne on the raised dais.

"The obedience of the Mandalorian people, of course. And the Jedi we've been hunting for – Ezra Bridger. Hand over the Jedi, and you may keep your position of power by the grace of the Supreme Leader."

"You must have space-dust in your brain, Knight. We don't have any Jedi here." She snapped in return.

"Oh, that is a shame. Very well, a detachment will have to sweep the city. To be sure, of course." The being replied sarcastically as he began pacing back and forth. "Now, seeing as you deny any Jedi, why don't you come down from that uncomfortable looking Throne?" As he said this, the Knight reached out with the Force and pulled Mira to him. She floated before him, struggling just a few inches off the floor in the invisible grip.

Nasra had moved to the side of the room as the soldiers filed in, pulling the Force in on himself. He didn't want to reveal himself if he could avoid it – it would only put Mira's family in danger, not to mention Rey, Poe and Chewie. He began to approach however when the weapons of every Mandalorian in the room were levelled at the Knight.

The Knight lazily activated its lightsaber, the crimson blade snap-hissing to life at its side. "Now, Mandalore. Order your people to stand down and bow to the First Order."

"Go _Kark_ yourself, you Sith wannabe!" Mira ground out, teeth clenched.

"Such a shame. Perhaps your successor will-"

He threw out his hand, overpowering the Knight and pulling Mira to him. The woman was free immediately and came to a sliding stop before the members of her Clan. He nodded at Finn who stood on her right shoulder, assault rifle held at the ready.

" _Jedi_!" The Knight spat as each Stormtrooper aimed their rifles at him.

"Mandalore is under my protection. Take your men, take your ship and leave. I won't warn you again." He warned, his back turned to the creature. He turned slowly, shrugging the heavy cloak from his body.

The Knight backed up a single step as it took in the interwoven armour plates of his dark robes - the hood of his tunic still pulled over his helmet, the menacing red and black helmet and most importantly, the identical hilts that hung from his belt.

"My Order has killed dozens of your brothers and sisters, Jedi. What fun that I get to strike another from the galaxy."

Immediately, his hilts were in his palms, the cyan blades springing forth. Quickly, he reached out, searching for Rey. He could feel Poe and Chewie in the lower levels, but Rey was closer – _much_ closer. "Not today." He replied before throwing himself at the adept, his blades spinning through the air.

All around him, blaster fire tore through the First Order soldiers – their armour and weapons no match for his Mandalorian allies. In the background, he could hear Mira issuing orders. His blades crashed against his adversary's. He was on the offence the second the blades touched however, pulling his blades back and spinning offhand low while his main hand went high. The Knight was forced on the defensive, using his blade to defend his legs while leaning back to avoid the slash at his throat.

With a quick readjustment of his grip, he held brought his main hand weapon down and across the Knight's chest from shoulder to hip in a reverse grip as he spun with the momentum. The Knight managed to block the attack on his blade, though not before he'd scored a glancing blow. The hiss that escaped the helmet brought a smirk to Nasra's face just as he sensed another squad of troopers enter the room, firing as they did.

Completing his spin, he thrust forward with his offhand into the Knights abdomen. There was a brief sense of resistance until it sunk up to the hilt. For the briefest of moments, the room was silent and the clatter of the Knights lightsaber against the floor heralded the all-to-familiar sense of victory.

With a quick pull, the lightsaber was yanked out of the gut of his opponent and the Knight immediately collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. "Who are you?" He demanded weakly, its arms dangling uselessly at its side.

"Nasra Shan, and I _will_ see the Jedi avenged." He replied coldly before swiping a blade through the Knights throat, watching with detached eyes as the helmet bounced against the marble in one direction and the body fell limply in another.

Within seconds, he was deflecting blaster fire back at the troopers. It seemed they aimed their shots well, always probing his guard. As he held their attention, the Mandalorians gunned them down mercilessly. When only four were left, he watched as Rey burst through the door in a high leap, her orange blades burning furiously bright. As she landed in the middle of his attackers, she rolled to her feet and spun in a circle, beginning low and finishing high. With that single move, the room quieted again. He also noticed her cloak was similarly removed.

"Mandalore, we're getting alerts of fighting all over the city!" A guard announced, just as an explosion bellowed a cloud of dark smoke out of the side of a building some blocks away.

Ignoring the Mandalorians for the moment, he jogged the distance between himself and his Padawan and gripped her shoulders, both their weapons deactivated for now. "Are you hurt? Are you alright?" He asked, his eyes checking her for any injury behind his visor.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Poe and Chewie are at the _Falcon_." She answered him, her chest heaving from the adrenaline.

"Good. We-" He began until Mira's voice stopped him.

"Shan!" She called, similarly jogging over to them. "We could use your help throwing them off the planet. The Fleet is on its way. We just have to hold out until then, make sure they don't get out of Sundari."

He was quiet a moment, mulling the options over in his head. "How long would that take?" He asked eventually.

"A day or two. They were patrolling near Wayland – all the other Fleets are engaged hunting pirates. Sounds like it was co-ordinated."

"What would you have us do? We're a Wookiee, a pilot, a Padawan and now a Mandalorian warrior. We can't fight an army, Mira."

"You wouldn't need to. My warriors will do the bulk of the fighting, I need you to help evacuate my people to the shelters."

He glanced to his Padawan – his first responsibility was to her. "Rey, if we do this, you follow every order I give you to the letter. Do you understand?" He said, grasping her shoulder in his right hand. She nodded slowly. "Alright, I assume you have fighters?" He asked, looking back to Mira. When she nodded he continued, "Okay, Rey – get Poe into a fighter. For now, I want you on the _Falcon_ with Chewie giving us air support. Finn, you're with me."

Issuing orders again felt strange. On the one hand, a part of him hoped never to return to a battlefield. He wanted to grow old. On the other, it was like putting on his favourite combat boots. As his eyes darted about the room, he watched as everyone – even Mandalore herself rushed to follow his commands.

* * *

 **The interior of** the dropship was dark, bathed in an eerie red glow. All about him, his squad prepared their weapons. There were six of them in total, and he cursed himself for not knowing their names yet. For now, he'd rely on the number designations in their IFF's on his HUD. He'd been assigned _Boma Squad_ for the conflict. They were his personal responsibility, and he'd damn well make sure they survived. His IFF identified him as B-1, his second – an aerial warrior, was B-2. B-3 was their sniper, B-4 CQC, B-5 Demolitions and B-6 their tech specialist.

The engines of the Old Republic-era LAAT Gunship roared with the unmistakeable flare as their pilots began the landing sequence. The light inside the ship suddenly turned amber, and his gaze flickered to the one member of the transport that wasn't on his team – Shan. He'd seen what Rey's master could do when he'd wasted no effort in cutting down the Knight of Ren, Hell, all of them in the room had seen how quickly and efficiently he'd dispatched the Knight. It was unnerving, though he'd be the first to admit his pride when he saw Rey burst through the door.

"Comm check." He said, tapping the side of his new helmet.

"B-2, green."

"B-3, green."

"B-4, green."

"B-5, green."

"B-6, green."

"Shan, green."

The transport slammed to a halt and the side panels hissed open, their visors automatically polarising to adjust for the sudden light. "Move, to cover!" He yelled, ducking as a red bolt flew past the side of his head and struck the Durasteel transport.

They'd landed in a market square by the looks of it, somewhere in the upper levels of Sundari. All around him, blaster bolts blew small craters out of the Durasteel and Transparisteel walkway they'd landed on. He dove to cover behind a stall, feeling a second and third slam from B-4 and B2. It appeared B-3, B-5 and B-6 had taken cover on the other side of the aisle. A quick glance to the sounds of the twin lightsabers informed him as to Shan's positioning.

"Get behind me and advance! I'll cover you!" Shan yelled, quickly snapping his blades into place to return the shots to the First Order lines.

"Do it! B-3, find a good spot and cover us!" He ordered, rolling out of cover into a kneeling position and returning fire from his assault rifle. While he was confident in his Beskar and limited energy shields, he didn't want his squad to be too exposed. "Leap-frog between cover! Keep it tight!"

"Grenade out!" B-5 shouted out, tossing a thermal detonator through the air. As Finn ducked into cover once again, this time finding cover tall enough to stand upright behind, he watched as it arced through the air before bouncing twice inside the First Order's make-shift bunker. While he called it a bunker, all it was in reality was a few over-turned stalls for cover and a mounted heavy repeater.

The resulting explosion sent the white-armoured bucket heads flying in every direction, some in multiple. Nasra was in there in a flash, quick and efficient slices and stabs making short work of any that remained. With a quick gesture of his hand, he signalled for everyone to regroup on the Jedi.

The sight that greeted him upon entering the defeated firing position tore at his heart. Once upon a time, these men and women had been his brothers and sisters. They'd all undergone the same training, though he'd been pulled into a separate division that essentially served as Phasma's private army. Had any of them felt as he did? Had any of them had doubts? He supposed it didn't matter now.

He came to a knee in the centre of the position, his squad taking up positions of over-lapping fire in the chance they came under attack. Shan kneeled before him, activating a small holo-projector that showed the surrounding area and buildings. "Finn, I need you to get me here." He said, pointing to the upper floors of a building that overlooked a large square. "There are children in there from all the Clans. We'll get them out and move them to the shelters."

"That's a good three klicks from here. There's some heavy fighting between us and them, boss." B-2 spoke up, his helmet looking at the map briefly from over his shoulder.

"How long do you think it would take?" Finn asked his second, effectively relying on him as a scout for this mission.

"It's hard to say. If we run into armour, we could get stopped. A few hours, at the very least. We'd have to clear some buildings on the way to make sure we don't get shot in the back." B-2 replied.

"Alright. You're our scout. Find us a way through – we'll follow your directions. If you spot any troopers, you double back to us before they spot you. B-3, I want you on the rooftops. Go, go, go!" He ordered, watching as his men rushed to do their duty. B-2 immediately set off with his jetpack, while B-3 slung his long-barrelled rifle over a shoulder and onto the magnetic clamp on his back while pulling out two powerful looking blasters from some thigh-clamps.

"Y'know, you're not half bad at this." Shan commented, nodding approvingly at him.

"Tell that to me once I get your ass through this mission." He replied, earning a small round of chuckles from his squad and the Jedi.

"Come on, we should move." Shan said, slowly drawing himself to his full height. With a nod, Finn gestured for his team to follow, all their weapons panning the various walkways and streets that surrounded them. Above, he heard the tell-tale sound of the busted YT-1300 freighter as it flew past, rattling the windows in their frames all around them. A squadron of TIE's close on its tail.

He keyed a private channel to Shan with a blink of his eyes, "You think they'll be alright?" He asked, watching as a pair of _Fang_ starfighters annihilated a squadron of TIE's as they'd been hounding a handful of LAAT gunships.

"She'll be fine. She's as far away from the fighting as she can be while still a part of it. I trust Chewie." The Jedi replied as they moved past a burned-out speeder, its previous occupants laying face-down not three metres from the wreck.

"What about Poe?" He asked, checking a window as they stepped past it.

"I understand he's going to be leading some fighters and bombers against that Destroyer. He's in his element."

Finn nodded slowly to himself as he licked his lips nervously. Yeah, they'd be fine – everyone would be fine.

"Contact! Chicken-walker!" B-2 screamed, flying around the corner at the end of the street, jinking out the way of a pair of blaster bolts. The resulting blast from the bolts impacts on the window they hit caused a shower of glass for fall to the street. Immediately, everyone dove to cover.

" _B-1, be advised – you have a squad of troopers backing that walker up._ " B-3 chimed in over the radio.

"Acknowledged, B-3. Firing positions, now! B-5, I want heavy ordinance on that walker last week!" He replied, knowing both the strengths and weaknesses of the First Order AT-ST. They weren't the models used by the Empire. The First Order had taken the design to a whole new level, adding improved composite armour and better gyroscopic systems, making it harder to topple.

The second the heavily armoured walker cleared the corner, a squad of troopers at its feet, B-5 sent a rocket straight into its face. The explosion stumbled it and appeared to have knocked one or two troopers from the fight, but after a moment it righted itself and continued its march of destruction towards them.

"Distract it for me!" Shan yelled, leaping over the cover the two were behind and taking off at a full sprint.

"Open fire!" He yelled to his team, watching as the blue bolts from their weapons sailed down the street. In the initial volley, they caught three troopers and drew the attention of the walker, which had previously been turning to look at Shan – who's lightsabers weren't ignited yet!

As he watched the Jedi, he saw the man duck and spin out of the way of the red bolts of the First Order, always a step ahead of them, it seemed.

"What the _kriff_ is he doing?!" B-6 yelled, ducking as a pair of bolts struck the side of the speeder he was behind.

"Not a clue! Keep covering him!" Finn yelled back, dodging to the side as a bolt passed a little too close for comfort.

Suddenly, the two cyan blades appeared, just a few metres shy of the walker and against all expectations, Shan _threw_ them towards the source of their troubles. The two blades spun through the air horizontally and arced unnaturally in a lazy ellipse. The two blades slid effortlessly through the legs of the walker, causing it to buckle and topple forward. Leaping up into the air, the Jedi landed atop the walker and caught the blades as they returned to him.

"I could get used to fighting with a Jedi." B-4 chuckled, the awe in his voice evident through the comm.

"I want to have a go at him in the Battle Circle." B-6 added, knocking the pauldron playfully of B-4. A moment later and with a final squeeze of his trigger, Finn dropped the final trooper with a blast straight to the chest.

"Let's keep it moving. B-2, scout ahead." He ordered, jogging to catch up with Nasra. With a nod, the warrior shot into the air and disappeared around the corner.

They continued on like this for the next few hours, picking their route around the heaviest of the fighting. They couldn't afford to get bogged down in drawn-out fights. It was when Mandalore's voice crackled through the comm that things got better for them though. " _My warriors are telling me the First Order is pulling back from your position. You should have a window to get in and out._ "

"Copy that." He replied, relaying the information to the rest of the team. "Only thing between us and that building now is a few hundred metres of open ground. B-2, B-3, see anything?"

" _All quiet. If you want to move, I'd do it quick. Looks like they're getting ready for another push._ " B-3 replied from his vantage point.

"Okay… ready? Mark!" They all set off at a sprint, racing across the open ground as quickly as they could. Once they arrived at the entrance of the building, his team quickly stacked up behind him as they prepared to breach.

With a tap on his right shoulder, B-5 let him know he was right behind him. With a nod, and a deep exhale, he burst through the door – the flashlight on his helmet illuminating the bombed-out looking room they entered. "Clear!" He called, receiving similar calls from the rest of his team. "B-2, join us in here. B-3, keep overwatch."

" _Copy_."

" _Copy_."

With B-2's timely arrival, Finn looked to their resident Jedi. "I sense them. Three floors up. Twenty of them." Shan said, tilting his head back and looking up. Could he see them through the floors?

"Twenty? That's more than we were expecting. Boss, we can't cover twenty _ade_." B-4 said, keeping a watch on the square they'd just left.

"Could we call in a dropship, maybe?" B-6 asked, looking out a blown-out window. "There's enough space on the far side of that statue."

"An LAAT would get torn to shreds. We need something with shields." B-5 pointed out. "If any armour turns up, that LAAT is going up in smoke."

"B-3, can you spot any armour converging on our position?" He asked after a moment's pause.

" _I spot three AT-ST's moving towards you. There's nothing between us and them._ " B-3 replied after a moment. " _I can start picking off troopers, but the second those walkers realise where I am, I'm finished_."

"No, stay there and keep watch." He ordered. The troopers would be confused for a shot or two, but they'd quickly pin-point his snipers' nest. "This is _Boma Squad_ , requesting a pick-up for twenty civilians! I repeat-"

" _We hear you, Finn! We can bring the_ Falcon _in and pick you up_!" Rey's voice answered him. While he hated the idea of bringing her into their situation, the _Falcon_ appeared to be their best bet.

"Alright, we'll get them ready. Start your approach." He replied in turn. He looked to his squad and gestured to the floors above them. "Alright, lets get the _Civs_ and get them onto the Falcon."

His squad nodded in return and began their trek up through the building, checking each room as they passed. Finally, on the third floor, just as Nasra had said, they found their targets. Fifteen children and five adults – presumably their supervisors. The children screamed in terror.

"Hey, hey! We're friendlies! Easy, easy!" Finn called out, lowering his weapon and taking a knee before a child. With a gentle hiss, the seal of this helmet broke and with an added twist, he removed the helmet. "See? Just like you. Not like those ugly troopers."

"Still ugwy." A small girl said, no older than two by the looks of her. She hid behind the legs of one of the adults.

"Got you there, boss." B-2 chuckled, the rest of the squad and Shan joining in. With a roll of his eyes, Finn replaced the helmet and looked to the adults.

"We're here to get you to an evac-centre. Our ride should be here any-" Just as he spoke, the familiar roar of the _Falcon_ could be heard outside the building. "-moment."

Carefully, they led their charges down the three flights of stairs and into the entrance foyer they'd been in just a moment before, the _Falcon_ resting just a few dozen metres from them, on the far side of a statue depicting a previous Mandalore. "B-3, I'm sending B-2 to come and get you."

" _Copy_."

With a nod, his second shot into the sky to retrieve their sniper. "Alright, everyone to the ship! Lets move it!"

As they began filing out of the building, his squad's weapons trained in every direction, he spotted the ramp of the _Falcon_ lowering and Rey appearing at the bottom of it, waving her arm for them to hurry.

With a roar of his rocket pack, B-2 and B-3 arrived not a moment later. "Boss, they're here. We need to move!" B-3 said, his voice tense.

"Move it, move it, move it!" Shan yelled.

* * *

 **He unhooked his** lightsabers from his belt once he passed a child to one of the adults. With a flick of his thumbs, he activated his blades, only for his main hand to flicker out. With a frown, he spotted why – a blaster bolt had glanced off of the casing. If it had been made of cheaper alloys, it likely would have destroyed the weapon. Though, as he inspected the damage closer, he had no idea why it wasn't still functioning – the damage seemed superficial. This particular weapon held a special place in his heart – inside it was a particular crystal that had been passed down through his family for generations. It was the crystal he'd used when he'd constructed his blade after becoming a Knight.

Tapping Finn on the shoulder, he passed the now lifeless hilt to the man. "Make sure you get this on the _Falcon_." He said before pointing to a small pile of rubble next to the railing of the platform. "There's someone buried under that. I'm going to grab them and come back."

"Shan, we don't have time-" Finn began as he gripped the saber hilt.

"I'm _not_ leaving someone buried alive! Now go!"

The second he split from the rest of the team; he broke into a full sprint. Halfway to the pile of rubble, which seemed to have been caused from a stray starfighter blast, the First Order arrived. He slid into cover, turning his head slightly to look back at the _Falcon_. It appeared everyone was on board, while Finn and Rey stood on the boarding ramp waiting for him now. Good.

With a quick gesture of his hands, he lifted the rubble into the air and hurled it at the fresh soldiers that were blasting at his allies. No, his _friends_. Definitely his friends. While it had the positive effect of distracting them from the _Falcon_ , it had the adverse effect of directing all their attention seemingly on him.

He broke from cover the moment a gap in the blaster impacts presented itself. Judging by the amount of fire headed his way, there must have been at least half a company with those walkers. As he came to the life-form he sensed buried under all the rubble, he couldn't help but gasp at the sight of the small child.

The young girl, no older than five lifedays was clutched in the grip of her deceased father. The man had used his own body to shield her from the debris. "You need to come with me! I'll get you to safety!" He shouted over the hail of blaster fire. The little girl nodded mutely as he lifted her into his arms and ran back to his previous cover. A step away however, he felt a bolt slam into his right thigh. He tumbled behind the small bit of wall that remained. The girl didn't seem to react, her eyes staring somewhere off into the middle distance.

With a grimace, he looked down at the wound and then at the distance between himself and the ship. _Rey_ , he whispered into his bond. _Catch_!

"Sorry little one!" He whispered into her ear as he looked over at his Padawan. Time slowed for the briefest of moments as he launched the child through the Force and into his Padawans arms. When Rey caught the child, he nodded to himself and fingered the hilt of his remaining lightsaber. He clicked the comm inside his helmet and opened a line to Finn.

"Finn, you need to take off. I caught a bolt in the leg. I won't make it." He sighed, resting his head against the wall behind him.

" _No, I'm not leaving you! We can swing around and pick you up_!" Finn shouted back, and as he looked over at the two of them, he could see the dawning horror on Rey's features. He could hear her scream from where he rested. As she lunged forward, Finn caught her around the waist as he held her bodily back.

"Get out of here. I'll distract them. Go, their shields won't last much longer! Finn, it's been an honour. Tell Rey I'm sorry I couldn't complete her training." He grunted as he pushed himself up. He clicked his comm off and pulled a bacta stim from his belt. With a moan, he buried the needle into the flesh around the wound, instantly feeling the numbing effects.

With a resounding snap-hiss, his cyan blade sprung to life and he rolled out of cover, batting bolts back into his enemy. As he edged further from cover, he caught the _Falcon_ rising into the air out of the corner of his eye, and thought he could spot Rey pressed against the cockpit window.

It was done – they'd manage to escape.

He backed away slightly as more and more blasters were pointed in his direction until he was backed up against the edge of the platform. In that moment – he felt at peace, which surprised him _greatly_. He'd always assumed he'd be kicking and screaming when he finally passed into the Force. Though, he supposed, he'd be reunited with old friends.

The blaster bolts stopped for a moment and he lowered his saber. It seemed the First Order understood his position just as he did.

"You're surrounded Jedi! You've got nowhere to run!" A soldier shouted to him.

He looked down at the weapon in his hands for a moment, nodding to himself as he sighed. "Seems that way." He muttered. "This is it."

With a slow spin of his blade, he settled into the opening stance of Soresu.

The opening volley he could handle, keeping his bladework tight and controlled as he rooted himself in position. He would not bend – he would not break. His blade snapped into position at a speed that he didn't think he had in him anymore – not with the leg injury, at least. As he spun the blade in front of his torso, he grunted as the first bolt struck his side. The shot staggered him, and it wasn't long until he felt half a dozen impacts across his chest and stomach – he even felt a bolt from a heavy repeater blow the top half of his lightsaber hilt off, effectively destroying the weapon and the top half of the crystal inside.

For a moment, time stood still. He could feel the wind through the holes in his armour and the tears in the fabric. He saw as the _Falcon_ passed overhead one last time, its mounted turrets blasting the First Order soldiers into atoms. For a moment, he thought he could still see Rey slamming her hands into the cockpit window as Finn tried to pull her away from where she was reaching over Chewie. He could see the wet track marks down her cheeks from the tears.

He blinked and tried to pull in a breath of air. There, standing before him was his mother. Her face older than he remembered, and with her hair tied back. She had a sad smile on her face as he staggered back, blinking heavily. Had she really lived so long after he'd gone? Who had protected her? Looked after her?

Slowly, more figures appeared around her – Theron, _Lana_ , of all people. A smile spread across his lips slowly as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. At least, in these last moments, he could be with his family one last time.

An explosion shook the platform and he felt his body fall backwards. As the sense of weightlessness overtook his body, he felt his eyes grow heavy and his body cold. With one last exhale, his eyes closed, and the darkness took him.


	12. Mandalore V

**"** _ **Let me go!** Let me go! He needs me!" She screamed, fighting the hands holding her back. "I can save him!"_

" _Rey, it's too late! We have to go!" Finn yelled into her ear as he pulled her from the cockpit, his new armour hard and unrelenting against her back._

 _Chewie let out an angry and mournful growl, cursing the First Order as they retreated from the battlefield. They had a responsibility to the civilians in the main hold of the ship – all of this meant nothing to her in that moment._

 _As she was finally pulled from the cockpit window, she watched as his body fell from the platform. She_ felt _each and every blaster bolt as it impacted him, rocking her body this way and that. With one final, pained moan, she went limp in Finn's arms._

Had it really been a week since he died? She had grown closer to Shan in the time since Starkiller than anyone she had ever met. He had been her mentor, her friend and her confidant. When she was struggling with a particular part of her training, he'd be there to offer her reassurances.

She missed his dry humour and sarcastic wit. She missed the intimate connection the two of them had with one another through their bond, but most of all – she missed _him_.

He hadn't been a long-lost Jedi to her. Not the fabled _Hero of Tython_. He had simply been Nasra Shan, a survivor of countless wars and battles – a man who had his flaws and was _human_.

She lay there, unmoving for the better part of a week. Sure, she'd done her duties and made sure the First Order was being pushed off-world, but she hadn't been _there_. Once word had come in that the First Order Destroyer had been crippled by the Mandalorian Fleet and Poe's fighters, Mandalore had ordered its capture. She had fought through the hordes of Stormtroopers with a reckless abandon, imagining each of them had been the ones to deal the final blows to her master – to her friend.

" _The Force will always be with you_." A voice whispered, just on the edge of hearing. She sat up, instantly – the hilt in her hand gripped tightly. The room on the _Falcon_ was sealed, and the crawlspaces were far too small for anyone but the smallest of species to clamber through.

"Who's there?" She asked quietly, her bloodshot eyes sweeping the dimly lit room with the same intensity they'd held for the last week.

" _Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them, do not. Miss them do not._ " A second, older voice whispered.

The snap-hiss of the cyan blade in her hand echoed throughout the room, illuminating the darkest parts. All around were strewn pieces of clothing and mechanical parts – a far cry from the state it had been in when she'd stumbled in here.

" _Rey,_ " A wizened voice called. She turned slowly, lightsaber still at the ready. " _He will always be with you._ " A shimmering blue figure said, his short white hair and beard almost swallowed by the tan and brown robes he appeared in. After her experience at the Nexus on Odessen, he didn't startle her as he surely would have done otherwise.

"Who are you?" She demanded, levelling the blade at the ghost's throat – for all the good it would have done her.

" _My name, is Obi-Wan Kenobi._ " The old man smiled serenely, moving to take a seat on the bed she'd been curled up on.

"What do you want? I'm in no mood to talk." She snapped, de-activating the blade and running the back of her hand across her nose as she sniffled. What a sight she must have looked.

" _Did you know, I trained Darth Vader as a Jedi?_ " Obi-Wan asked, patting the seat next to him. She took it begrudgingly as she nodded, recalling Luke fondly telling her of his own masters, Obi-Wan and Yoda. " _When my apprentice, Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, the good man he was, was destroyed – for a time. It felt as if the young boy I had trained, had died."_

"How did you cope?" She asked after a moment of silence. Feeling the tears softly trickle down her cheeks.

" _I resolved myself to watch over his son. I promised myself I would do better – for Anakin._ " He sighed, running a thumb through his beard, not entirely unlike Shan would do. There it was; the comparison that reduced her to tears once more.

As the sobs wracked her body, she felt herself curling into a ball as she fisted a handful of the robe she'd been holding close, inhaling the lingering scent as much as she could. How would she continue? A gentle weight fell on her shoulder, the light touch soothingly stroking her shoulder.

" _He will always be with you."_

She remained there for a time, tears slowly trickling into one of Nasra's cloaks. As her eyes tiredly roamed the room she was in, she took in all the belongings of the man who had been staying in it. There hadn't been much, what with him only being a temporary crew member, but there was enough through the Force that lingered, even after his death.

She could see the spot he would use to meditate in, the area he'd designated his own private workshop where he would tinker with his lightsabers. As Master Luke rebuilt the Order, she'd make sure that Shan's last remaining saber would be held in a place of honour for the future.

Eventually, her eyes slowly drifted closed, her breathing deep and even as she allowed the sleep she'd been sorely lacking for the last week finally claimed her.

" _I think it's a boy," A woman's voice said, the joy in her voice evident. As she turned to look at the scene before her, she could see a pair of figures sitting in a lounge of some sort, arms wrapped around one-another. As she attempted to peer closer, however, she couldn't make out any features – she couldn't even make out the voices, so distorted and warped as they were._

" _I'll be happy regardless – though I hope it's a little girl." The male replied, pulling the woman in tighter as they lay back on the couch._

" _Will they be trained? Surely you've already felt them." The woman asked eventually, a hand gently stroking back and forth over her enlarged stomach. In the background, a pair of Astromechs, one a typical domed, cylindrical model from the silhouette of it, and the other a much more squat-headed model quietly bickered back and forth, causing the couple to laugh._

" _I think they're fighting over which of them would become their droid companion." The male laughed._

" _Mommy, mommy! Theron's being a nerf again!" A young girl cried, charging into the room – a small stuffed toy held in a vice-like grip. The young girl launched herself onto the couch and curled up into the woman's side._

" _Am not!" An indignant cry replied as a young boy came racing after his sister, she assumed this was Theron. "Papa, tell Satele that I'm not!" Similarly, the young boy clambered onto the couch and latched onto his father._

" _Alright kids, what happened?" The father finally sighed as he stood, scooping the two children into his arms and hoisting them over each shoulder – the squabbling forgotten as they dissolved into a fit of childish giggles. She smiled to herself, watching the scene quietly as she stood to the side._

* * *

 **Her eyes opened** slowly, a calmness about her that hadn't been there in what felt like an age. No, not an age – a week. She knew very well why she had felt so utterly torn apart. With a groan, she hoisted herself up into a sitting position in the bunk and thought on the previous night's events.

She had been visited by Obi-Wan, that was certain enough. Tired and grief stricken as she was, she could still sense the powerful presence well enough. Silently, she pushed herself off the borrowed bunk and padded quietly to the door.

With a single jab of her finger, the door slid open with the clunking of wall mechanisms that were so specific to the _Falcon_. The ship was empty, the ship having been docked back at the palace shortly after rescuing the civilians, though as she moved to her own bunk room, she felt the approach of Mandalore and Poe from across the expansive hangar.

While she'd taken care of her personal hygiene each day, she hadn't made that much of an effort and mostly just sat down in the sonic shower for a time before going through her washing routine on auto-pilot. Her clothes had been her training and sparring clothes for the most part – comfortable enough, but not the best for receiving company. With a tired groan, she divested herself of her robes and jumped into the secondary sonic shower the _Falcon_ had, which incidentally was a part of her room. She assumed Solo had it installed once he began transporting Leia throughout the years of the Rebellion.

The shower was short and to the point, and after a minute, she was out and pulling on her robes that Shan had bought for her back on Naboo. At the time, she hadn't thought too much on the robes themselves, or the style, but a conversation a month before the mission wiggled its way back into her mind. Both Shan and Skywalker were discussing the differences between the apparel of the Jedi in both ancient and recent history – though Shan always became uncomfortable whenever it was referred to as ancient.

According to Shan, the clothing of a Jedi usually reflected their personality during his time period. While some considerations were made for armour and combat situations, the clothing of a Jedi was often a lot more personalised than the tan and brown tunics that the later Jedi seemed to adopt as a pseudo-uniform.

As it turned out, her robes were much more in-line with the Jedi of old, rather than the Jedi of recent years. Though, she'd be the first to admit that the slight skin she showed of her hips up to the bottom of her ribs on either side of her tunic seemed to attract more than a few appreciative glances – much to her annoyance.

As she finished adjusting the sash just under her bust, the knock from the other side of the door announced both Mira and Poe's presence. With a flick of her fingers, the door slid open and a sombre pair of faces greeted her.

"Rey." Poe said, his eyes sad as he stepped through the door.

"Hey, Poe." She replied, trying to smile as she called her saberstaff to her hand and clipped it to her combat belt around her waist.

"We just came to see how you were doing. Finn said you haven't seen anyone since-" The pilot began, his own eyes slightly bloodshot and the skin around them dark. It appeared Nasra's death had been a blow to more than just her.

"Don't." She said, her hand stopping any further words. "Please, just… don't." A silent nod from the pilot answered her. "What's the news on the First Order? Are they still holed up?" Another nod. "Alright, where do you need me?"

The world was blurred and muffled, as if everything was much further away than it was in reality. With a groan, she pushed herself off the Durasteel platform she'd landed on and winced as she put pressure on her left arm.

A pair of miniature suns appeared briefly in the air above her as she looked towards the top of the Sundari dome, briefly followed by two large blurs that raced past them. All too soon the world snapped back into focus.

"Where the _kriff_ did those TIE's come from?!" Dameron shouted to her left. Within moments, he was helping her to her feet and leading her to the corner of a nearby building.

"It seems they must have hidden them somewhere, sir!" A Mandalorian replied, twisting out of cover to return a volley of bolts.

"Sir, Boma Squad is still pinned down on the far side of the street. They've been out-flanked!" Another Mandalorian announced, coming to a knee by the side of them. "With all of this heavy fire, we can't evac them!"

Rey looked over to Poe, her chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He looked torn between aiding Finn and falling back to a more defensible position. Her eyes flickered to all the other warriors around her. There were a small number that had fallen to various wounds – either from blasters, explosives or the brief strafing run of the TIE's a few moments ago. One small comfort was that there were far more First Order corpses than their own.

This was the last stronghold of the Order on the planet – a small industrial sector of Sundari. It hadn't been home to much, but the Order had launched a number of raids from this position as the pockets of resistance had slowly been routed. It seemed they were content to make a final stand and take as many Mandalorians as they could.

As an explosion rocked the building on the far side of the street – sending small chunks of debris in every direction, she pushed up off the floor where she had been kneeling. "Poe, cover me!" She yelled, the dual snap-hiss of her blades somehow breaking through the chaos of the battle.

"Rey, what are you-" Poe began, though as she stepped into the street, her staff spinning in an impossibly fast blur, she could hear him yell, "Ah, damnit! Everyone, covering fire!"

Immediately, the number of bolts flying towards the First Order troopers increased, forcing the bucketheads into cover as she advanced. With both blades batting bolts back to her attackers, and the Stormtroopers shooting at her less and less, she saw an opening to advance on their foes. The distance between the two sets of soldiers was only a few metres in reality, but throughout the firefight had felt like so many miles. Shan had once told her of his experiences fighting on Corellia and other large city planets. With a frown, she clamped down on those thoughts. She didn't need to be distracted by her grief right now.

Pushing off from the floor below her, she spun lazily through the air before landing in a crouch behind the Stormtroopers that had been firing on her. In the split second that she remained crouched, her orange blades humming in a guarded position behind her back, she dove headfirst into the Force. She swam among its many currents, gathering as much of the energy into herself as she possibly could. It filled her with its euphoric energy, and when she felt almost ready to burst, she pushed it through the fingertips of her right hand and into the Duracrete below in every direction. As her eyes opened, a large wave of concussive energy tore up the Duracrete around her and sent Stormtroopers flying in every direction with enough force to liquify their internal organs.

Immediately, she was back on her feet, her blades deflecting a short three-burst of bolts that had been aimed at her legs. Sprinting forward, she dove into the nearby First Order soldiers and began her attack. With each swipe of her orange blades, a trooper fell. Some were fatal injuries – a swipe across the chest plate of a trooper, or a quick slice at their unprotected necks. Others were less severe, merely severing limbs, the wounds immediately cauterised from the immense heat of the blades.

It wasn't long until the First Order was routed from their last hold-out. The Mandalorians charged through the breach she had created, forcing the First Order into submission where they could, and efficiently killing those that refused.

"Rey!" Finn shouted over the ever-reducing noise of battle as he jogged over to her, his squad following behind him. With the battle now further into the industrial complex, they were out of any immediate danger. Her eyes quickly swept over his armoured form – there were a few blackened areas of his armour that showed the tell-tale signs of a blast impact, but it appeared his new armour could take the hits. He looked no worse for wear, thankfully. She de-activated her staff.

"Finn, I'm glad you're okay." She replied. She tried to give him a convincing smile, but she knew it fell flat.

"Rey, what are you doing here?!" He asked, his rifle still cradled in his arms.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, clipping her hilt onto her belt.

"Rey, you've been out of it for a week, and then you take part in a battle? I appreciate the help back there but your head can't be in the right place right now."

"You'd be dead if I hadn't been here. I can't-" She stopped herself, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. "I can't lose anyone else."

"You didn't lose him. It wasn't your fault. There was nothing we could have done." Finn said softly, sliding his rifle over his right shoulder and onto a magnetic plate on his back.

"He's right, Jedi. He bought us time to evac the civilians. He went out like a true warrior." One of Finn's men added, the man placing a gauntleted fist over his chest plate.

"And is that supposed to comfort me? I felt _everything_ Finn. I just-" She sighed, sitting down heavily against a crate and burying her face in her hands. "I feel like a part of me is missing." She moaned, wiping away the single tear that threatened to trickle down her cheek.

"Look, I don't know what it's like for you Jedi, but I know he'd hate to see you like this." Finn said, clasping his hand on her shoulder as he knelt in front of her. "Come on, I'll get you back to-"

"Finn, Rey! You'd better come and see this!" Poe yelled as he jogged over to them. He appeared out of breath, his eyes wild with a grin that she hadn't seen in over a week. "You're not gonna believe it!"

"What is it?" Finn asked, standing up just before she did.

"No way, you've got to see it." He replied, grabbing both hers and Finn's arms as he started dragging them behind him.

He led them past a few pockmarked buildings, their facades covered in a dozen or more small craters from Mandalorian and First Order weapons. The bodies weren't as many here, and it appeared more and more troopers were surrendering, or were being forced to submit. She supposed Mira would want as many prisoners to interrogate as possible – though as she reached out into the Force, it felt as if many were at their breaking points already from the constant fighting. While the battle of Sundari wasn't costly for the Mandalorians, the First Order's troops had been decimated in the conflict.

As they walked past one of the buildings, she caught a glimpse of a trooper having their helmet torn off, to reveal a young woman, no older than herself covered in Bacta strips. Her eyes were sunken from exhaustion, and her eyes resigned to the fate she expected. Were all of the troopers like this one? It was easy to disassociate from them when they were in their armour, but just how many young men and women were under that armour?

Poe suddenly came to a stop outside a rusted looking door that had been forced open partially. "Right, just in here." He said, gesturing for them to step through first.

Inside was dark and dingy. It appeared to have once been a small office building – likely a foreman's building for whatever all the assembly lines in the other buildings they'd past had been building. The room they entered had half a dozen Mandalorian's milling about, talking excitedly to one another as they held their weapons trained on a pair of kneeling Stormtroopers.

The troopers had their helmets removed and their hands clasped behind their heads as they stared at the stained floor.

"What's this all about, Poe?" Finn asked to her left.

"I helped these boys after Rey broke through their line. I followed them back here and we breached this building. Turns out, it was their med-centre. You, up and follow me." He replied, kicking one of the troopers in the knee and gesturing for him to stand with a quick wave of his blaster.

The trooper stood without a sound, though his eyes were roaming over everyone in the room – her in particular.

"Show them." Poe said, gesturing to the single locked door on the far wall. The trooper began moving immediately, and after half a dozen steps, began punching in the code for the door.

" _Stars_ , what's that smell?" Rey muttered, covering her nose with her hand in a futile attempt to stop the assault on her nostrils. As she stepped through the doorway after the trooper, she discovered her answer.

There, lying on a make-shift cot alongside a dozen or more other beings, was Nasra.

His robes were tattered and torn. His helmet still covered his head and for all intents and purposes, he appeared to be resting – but she knew the truth. She spun and looked at Poe, her jaw somewhere past her feet. She blinked twice before she darted over to her fallen master, dropping to her knees as she ran her right palm over the black and red faceplate.

"Good luck with that." The trooper said, his voice deep. "Any time I tried to get close, I got zapped."

"What do you mean? How did you find him? What were you doing with him?" She demanded; her eyes fixated on the broken body before her. Idly, she gently pushed the hood of his tunic back and away from his helmet.

"Answer her." Finn ordered after the trooper was quiet for a moment too long.

"We found him a few days ago, lying in some debris a few blocks away. There were a few corpses of scavengers and troopers around him. Looked like they'd been electrocuted when I took a look at them. Took us a while, but we worked out how to transport him here after a few hours. I was going to see what I could do, but every time I got close, I got zapped and thrown into that wall." He said, gesturing to a wall with a sizeable dent in it.

"That's impossible, he's dead." Finn replied. She wasn't listening anymore. The world became muted around her as she reached out with the Force. He was dead, wasn't he? She'd seen it – she'd _felt_ it. The memory of feeling each and every blast bolt was still raw in her mind. She couldn't have imagined the pain he had been in towards the end, and yet – he'd felt so calm, at peace. _Happy_ , even.

With gentle, shaking fingers, she reached out with both hands and slowly removed the helmet. The helmet looked no worse for wear, but after it came free of the owner, she couldn't helmet the gasp that trickled past her lips.

His pale skin was covered in dozens of small scrapes and bruises, and three large trails of dried, crusted and flaky blood covered his lower face and matted his beard, but it was still him. She had no idea what she'd been expecting, but the reality of seeing her fallen master was almost too much.

She threw her arms around his shoulders, feeling the coldness of his cheek against her own as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Absently, her fingers gently ran through his matted hair. She wept.

"Please don't go." She whispered, her shoulders shaking as the sobs struck her body. "Don't leave me. Please."

"Rey." She heard Poe's voice distantly, as if from a great distance. She ignored him as the tears kept falling from her cheeks.

"Please, don't leave me." She repeated, begging over and over again. She didn't know how long she had been begging for when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Rey, you need to stop this." Poe whispered slowly, drawing her back. Stop what? She wasn't doing anything!

Turning her head slowly, she looked over her shoulder. Immediately, she saw what Poe was talking about. All around them, anything that wasn't bolted to the floor was levitating and gently spinning. Finn, the troopers and the Mandalorian's from outside the room were peering at her cautiously. A brief flash of light illuminated the room in a cold blue.

Her head shot to the source of the light, but it was already gone. A few moments later, there was another, and this time she caught a glimpse of it. A single tendril of electricity was skittering over a crate, leaping this way and that. A few moments later, it was joined by another, and another. In no time at all, each and every object in the air had a number of tendrils crawling along its surface.

"Rey, you need to calm down." Poe said again, his voice wary as his eyes darted from object to object.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she finally managed, "It's not me."

"If it's not you, who could it b-" Finn began, before his head snapped to the body of Shan on the cot.

"You don't think?" Dameron asked, his eyes wide.

She dropped to her knees at the side of the cot again, this time grasping her masters left hand. Instantly, the tendrils of electricity began running along both their arms, and she couldn't help but grin at everyone else in the room.

"He's alive!"


End file.
